The Opera Populaire
by SnowyCrow
Summary: A story that takes place two years after the Opera Populaire burns down. It is E&C. From the movie and play not the book. This is only the first chapter but it sectioned into parts. I have finally finished it. please R
1. Chapter 1

Part One

It had been two long years since he had dared step into the chamber that had been his "lair". His home since he had been but a mere child, the catacombs under the Opera Populaire lay dormant. He gently touched the rusted metal bars that separated him from the painful flood of memories and despair he had run from. It seemed that no matter how far he had run, he was pulled back to this desolate cave.

He slowly pushed the bars aside and stepped once again into the dark underworld that had been the only home he had known for so many years. Looking around him, he saw the destruction the frenzied mob had left behind. Everything he had held so dear was gone. A pang of desolation pushed into his heart as he surveyed the damage of that fateful night.

The fire that had consumed the opera house had not reached the catacombs below. That it seemed was the one blessing that night. Well, maybe not the only one, he thought as his eyes brimmed with tears from the memory. He could still feel the tender passion that coursed through him when his angel kissed him that one time. The memory of her face and voice so poignant in his soul that the slightest thing would cause this pain to well up from his tortured heart.

He stepped over the fragments of broken candles and bent candelabras. White fabric and scattered sheets of tattered papers littered the stone floor about him. He bent over and picked up an ink-splattered piece of parchment. The yellowed sheet was adorned with flowery script and music notes from his past. Recognition flooded his mind as the pangs of guilt spread through his heart. He had made her choose and she had chosen him. She chose him and he let her go with that arrogant boy. He had to let her go. She loved him and he could not condemn such a pure angel to the darkness of his horrid life. She would wither in the dark. Christine needed the light, the spotlight to illuminate her ethereal voice and beauty. He knew this but it didn't make returning here any easier.

He stepped over a few scattered batches of debris and glanced up to the upper level of his hidden grotto. There at the top of the steps stood an organ. The music it had produced was haunting and lovely. He moved up the stairs and wiped off years off dust with his tattered shirt. The bench in front of the organ was unharmed if not clean. He didn't bother to clean the dust off the chair as he sat in front of the massive musical monstrosity. His fingers lightly floated over the ivory colored keys. Did he dare? Would it still play his music as it had done a few years ago? Could he bring himself to fill the catacombs with the sounds of his heart? No, he could not bring himself to do it.

He stood from the great organ and moved to the stairs that led up to the ancient passageways of the Opera Populaire. Moving slowly, he climbed the steps and passed familiar candleholders along the hall. The dust pushing out from under his feet as he moved with determination through the narrow passage. It seemed to take forever as he climbed higher into the chamber. As he reached the doorway that had led him into Christine's room his breath caught. There was a faint glimmer of candlelight flickering beyond the doorway.

_Christine, can it be you? _He thought to himself as he inched ever closer to the faint glow. _No, it can't be. You are with Roaul. You are happy and safe from this torment, this dark life I have been leading these past two years. _

The former phantom thought all this as he crept nearer the entrance to the bedchamber. His hands trembled as hegrasped a thin veil of fabric covering the secret passage. He could feel his eyes dampen underneath his discolored mask. He found that even when he knew there was no one around he didn't have the strength to go without it. It was his one hope, the one thing that hid his monstrosity from not only other people but from himself.

He pulled aside the cloth and stepped into Christine's former room. There on her armoire was a single white candle and a red rose. He stepped nearer the lit candle and reached out. He let his fingers touch the flame. The heat forced its way through the chill in the air.

_It's really here, _he though to himself. _Who would dare enter this room? _

He scanned the room for any clue as to who had entered the remains of the opera house. There were none. Then for the first time, he noticed a noise. In the distance, yet within the burnt out walls of the building, he could hear people. They were moving things and hammering things. People pushing wide brooms around and clearing out all the debris from the devastating fire that had swept through the building.

As he stood there listening and forgetting about the candle for a moment, a thought came to him. They were cleaning and rebuilding the Opera Populaire. This moment of realization filled him with joy and dread. Would Christine come back here and sing? Should he stay below or should he leave altogether? No, he couldn't leave. He knew that. He had no where else to go.

He turned back to the candle. The glow was lower as the candle was slowly burning out. For the first time, he noticed that this room was clean. There was no dust or dirt anywhere. It had been cleaned already and whoever had done that must have left the candle and rose behind. Still, he had no notion of who would do such a thing. He stepped over to the candle and again let the tiny flame surround his fingers. The heat of the fire so similar to the fire that had once enflamed his soul with passion and yearning for the dark haired creature that had roomed here. He wiped a tiny tear from his hidden eye and turned to leave this haunted place. As he turned around to leave, a flutter of movement caught his eye.

He spun in time to see a stray paper float to the floor at his feet. Someone was here. He bent over and picked up the paper. It was a flyer about the grand re-opening of the "Great Opera Populaire". A private party and preferred to remain anonymous was funding the restoration. According to the paper, the opera house would hold it's grand opening in six months time. He had that long to figure out what was going on here and to either leave or stop it. He couldn't imagine this place filled with music and laughter when none of it would be Christine's.

He let the paper drop from his hand and turned once again to leave the room and pass into the comforting darkness of the catacombs below. He stepped through the doorway and into the narrow passages beyond. He moved slowly, thinking to himself. Wondering if this all meant he would get to see her again. Could he stand to see her knowing he had let her go to another man? Knowing that every night they lay together smiling at each other? Her love and voice were his now. She had chosen him and he had let her go.

He arrived back at his hidden grotto to another surprise. The candelabras were lit. Someone had been here and replaced all the burnt out candles with new white ones and the glow from them gently lit the cavernous gloom. He quickly checked around his home. Nothing was there. They must have left just moments before. He went over to his sleeping area. Sat slowly on the bed and thought over what had happened today. The opera house being restored. Someone had cleaned Christine's room and the same someone, he would wager, had been in his home as well. He lay back suddenly tired and started to drift off to sleep. As the dark began to calm and claim him, he heard a faint sound. An ethereal and hauntingly beautiful sound floated to him. He slipped into unconsciousness as the familiar tune encompassed his heart.

Part Two

Christine sat beside the two headstones. The first she had visited many times since he had died. She missed her father so much. He was so kind and caring. He had been a world-renowned violinist and a wonderful father. When he died, she had been taken in at the Opera Populaire and Madame Giry had treated her as a daughter. Madame Giry actually had a daughter, Meg. Meg and Christine grew up together and both excelled at ballet. Christine on the other hand had acquired a mysterious tutor to help her singing evolve into the voluptuous sound it became. She had always loved her father and the "angel of music" she believed he had sent to her. He turned out to be no angel but a sad and tortured soul. A tortured soul she grew to love and care for a great deal. Then the choice. She knew she could love him and show him all the wonderful things in the world but he had let her go. He had let her return to her childhood love, Raoul.

She can still remember the mournful words as she left with Raoul. They floated out of the catacombs and never looked back. She had stopped here that night at her father's side. She prayed for the Phantom and that her father would keep him safe. Then they left together and within days were married. The next two years had been wonderful. Day after day of traveling, she would stop occasionally and sing for him. He loved her voice and he loved her. Two years of bliss with the only thing to mar her wonderful life the remembrance of a kiss. A kiss so full of love and sadness and desperation that the thought of it would still bring tears to her eyes. Yes, she had loved and married Raoul but she would always be in love with the man that had so many times inspired her voice.

She shifted her gaze to the other tall gray stone beside her. This was only her second visit to this one, her beloved husband, Raoul. He had only been gone a month and the pain and torment of his death still haunted her. He had gotten sick six months ago. They traveled around the world going from doctor to doctor but to no avail. No one could help him and he slowly wasted away before her eyes. There was nothing more painful that the memory of him withering away. She could not leave his bedside those last few weeks. She held his hand and sang to him through his fits of coughing. She watched as again the one person she cared for left her alone.

"I have started the renovations on the opera house, Raoul. I know it is what you wanted. Although, I think, you wanted it for me rather than yourself. Raoul, he is still there. I saw him in the passages beneath the house. He looked so sad and torn. It looked as if life has been very tough on him these past years. I will always love you but you aren't here for me anymore, Raoul. He showed me so many things and taught me more than anyone ever could. It is my turn, Love. I will show him that the world can be kind and loving just as you showed me that there is more to this world than the darkness I had been trapped in. He really is a kind person. I still love him Raoul and I will always love you." She stood and a tiny warm tear fell onto the cold lifeless stone monument that marked her dear husband's final resting-place.

She pulled her traveling cloak tighter about her as a brisk autumn wind blew by. The crisp leaves crackling under her feet as she slowly made her way back to the carriage. She must return to the opera house to over see the renovations and to check on her hidden guest. She knew he had returned and was surprised to see what the world had done to her teacher. He had been so proud and confidant but the years had not been kind to him as they had her. She grew older and her beauty had only strengthened, as had her voice. He had been dirty and ragged when she had glimpsed him in the catacombs after she had lit the candles and cleaned his bed off. She had left him to sleep as she sang quietly to herself a song from so long ago.

The carriage ride back to the opera house seemed to last forever. There was so much to get done if they were to open in a mere six months as her manager had plastered all over the city. They had a lot of confidence in her or perhaps they had a lot of confidence in her money. The latter seemed more likely. She sat in silence and pulled the window curtains together blocking out the evening glow. It had gotten late while she visited her father and late husband. The moon had started its climb into the deep blue sky and her carriage was slowing in front of the newly remodeled front entrance to the opera house. The giant archway over the huge wooden front doors was spectacular. Small cherubs carved in pristine white marble lined the front of the building.

She stepped out of the carriage and let the team of horses be led to the barn for food and rest. It had been along day and she was exhausted. She walked past the masons and the cleaners smiling to them as they strove to clean and rebuild her dreams. She had been given the largest quarters in the opera house. They had belonged to the former owners and were small apartments. Still, she found herself drawn to the room she had stayed in as a child. She worked her way up the stairs and into the tiny room she grew up in. The candle she had lit earlier had burnt itself out and the rose was still there, untouched.

She walked over to the hidden passage and debated whether she should slip down and see if he was still there. In her heart, she knew he was. She could sense him there, in the dark. She stepped forward and over the threshold. She straightened her dress as she moved silently down the stairs. Her amber colored gown flowing behind her as she fussed with the abundant mass of raven hued hair about her shoulders. As she moved down the stairs, she listened. There was a faint sound reverberating up to her from the darkness below.

The sound floated up to her. A familiar thing this strange inhuman tone drifting through the air. The organ was being played. It was sad and melancholy. The music flowing from the large instrument was beautiful and slow. Christine slipped into the main chamber unseen by her former tutor. He was bent over the organ. His fingers moved with fluid accuracy as he softly pressed the keys. The tones and notes in perfect pitch after a few years of dust collecting.

The music drew her closer. She could feel the strange passion that his voice and music had stirred inside her pushing up to the surface. He had always been hypnotic to her. His voice was like a sweet and powerful intoxication. It filled her mind and soul with energy and electricity. She paused just out of reach of him. She could see him breath as he concentrated on his music. His hands strong and deft, moving across the keys flawlessly. She could see he still wore the mask and wanted to reach out and touch it, touch him.

Her breathing quickened as she slowly reached out to touch him. Then she stopped. Should she disturb him? He was playing again and she was sure he hadn't played in years. Would he even want to see her after she left? She backed away. Yet, as she turned to leave his music pulled her back. It had changed. The music was so sad she thought his heart was breaking right there in front of her. How could she leave him? She truly did love him. More than she remembered. Her back was still turned and she had to decide quickly whether to stay or leave before he knew she was there, if he didn't know already.

She turned around to stay. Once more moving up the stairs silently to his inner sanctum. She stood a few feet from him, watching him play and yearning to touch him. He was caught up in the music and so was she. She had made her choice once more and she could not have left if she had wanted too.

Part Three

He was caught up in the music true but he had sensed someone enter his grotto. He knew it was a woman but was not sure who had stumbled into his web. He had debated for nearly an hour whether to stay or leave. He had no where else to go and the small hope that the people renovating the opera house would bring Christine back, was enough to hold him here. He felt old. The past months had been difficult for him. Madame Giry had visited him and she had told him about Christine and Raoul. They seemed happy together, she had said. They traveled the world and loved the freedom. Most of all, Christine loved the light.

He had decided to clean the organ off and see if he could still play. It had been painful at first. Moving things around and cleaning all the rubble off what had been his home. The candles from his mystery visitor still burned, as did his thirst for music and companionship. He sat down after building his courage for nearly an hour. The feel of the keys brought back deep hidden memories and once he started, he could not stop.

Two years of emotion flooded the organ and the air around him filled with his despair. The presence behind him stopped. He knew she was there but he could not stop playing. He could smell a familiar scent but his mind would not allow him to recognize it. The breathing behind him so close he could feel her on the back of his neck. His hands continued to play.

Then she moved. He could tell she wanted to leave. She thought he did not yet know she was there. True, he was caught up in his music but he could tell. Would she leave and if she did, would he try to stop her? Who was it? His heart dared not think it could be Christine. The heartbreak of it being another person altogether would be too much.

He once more caught the scent of a long past memory. A fragrance he knew better than he knew himself. It was her perfume. The hope that had been stamped out long ago tried to breathe again. Yet, she moved further away from him. Was she leaving? The thought of this hurt so much his music changed. It urged his heart out into the open. His hope intertwined with his deep longing for the one person in this twisted world he had ever loved.

She stopped walking away and listened to his heart. He filled her mind with it. His heart pounding as she turned around and came back up the stairs again. She was only a few feet from him. He could hear her heart pounding. A song blending with his own heartbeat. He could feel her, sense her presence. It was her, Christine. His mind swam at the thought that she was here with him. Wasn't she married? Yes, Madame Giry said they got married only days after they left here that horrid night. Why was she here? Why must she torment this already beaten soul?

He stopped playing. He let his shoulders slump as the music stopped playing and he felt a hot sting on his cheek as a tear fell. He wanted to turn and see who it was. He had to know if she had returned or if he had but dreamed it all as e had so many times before.

Slowly, he stood. The person behind moved closer and the faint smell of lavender filled him with hope once more. He wanted to turn but he could not bring himself to do it. He could not turn and find no one there. So many times before he had turned and nothing was there. He had imagined it all and it hurt worse every time.

The person behind him moved closer. He could feel her breath, warm and moist, passing over the back of his neck. She placed a hand on his shoulder and slowly turned him around. He closed his eyes unwilling to be tricked by his heart anymore. He thought he could feel her this time. How much more pain could he endure, he wondered. He would open his eyes and there before him would be the dark. It was always the dark that awaited him when he opened his eyes. Another tear streaked down from under the mask he wore. He thought he felt a soft hand brush the tear away but this would not be so. How he never wanted to open his eyes.

Part Four

The tear that fell from his eye hurt her so much. Christine reached out and gently wiped it away. He had known she was here the entire time. Why had he not tried to stop her? Why did he hurt so much? She knew why he hurt and the knowledge was unbearable. She was why he hurt. He didn't believe she was here. If only he would open his eyes and look at her. He didn't want to and she couldn't blame him. She had left him alone for too long and now he was lost.

She stepped closer to him. Her body inches from his and her heart raced as she leaned over to his ear. She pressed her cheek to his and breathed into his ear softly.

"Open your eyes kind tutor and see that your student has returned to you." She gently kissed his cheek as she pulled back from him slightly.

She stared at him as another tear fell from his eyes. His breath had caught as she had spoke to him and he slowly opened his eyes. She caught his gaze and the pain in his eyes was so intense it hurt to look into them. She had done this to him and that hurt even more. He looked from one eye to another. Searching her face for some sign of illusion.

"I promise I am not a ghost or a vision. I am really here." She reached out once more and touched his cheek.

"Oh, you are a vision, Christine. Truly, you are a vision to grand to believe." He leaned into her hand. A smile flickered across his mouth but before it could form it was gone. "You should not be here. You should be with Raoul. You should not have returned to this world of night and darkness. It was never a world for you." He started to turn away from her.

"He isn't with me anymore. Raoul died. He left me alone and my dad left me alone…and… and…" She couldn't help it and the tears she had held back broke through. She slipped to the floor and he knelt beside her. She shuddered from the grief and then felt strong arms surround her. They lifted her up and encompassed her in warmth.

"Christine, I will never leave you. I have always loved you and all I have ever wanted was for you to love me in return. I am so sorry for all I have done to you. Christine?" He asked as she glanced up into his eyes. "Christine, I love you."

She pressed herself into him and sobbed softly. He loved her. After all this time, he still loved her. She loved him too but would she be betraying Raoul's memory if she said she loved him? Suddenly another thought hit her. She didn't know his name. He was no longer the Phantom of the Opera. He was a man, a man that she loved.

She pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes. He still hurt. She could see it in there. The world had thrown him away and even when she had decided to stay with him that night he had given her up for her own good. He could not condemn her to his life and he had made her leave with Raoul. That decision had been the hardest and most human thing he had eve done but it had taken its toll on him as well. The scar was deep and still bleeding. Could she ever heal him?

"What is bothering you? There is something in your eyes. I can see it there yearning to ask me something" He spoke what her heart and mind had been thinking. He had always been able to read her. He could see into her very soul and that is what had made him so dangerous.

"I don't know your name." She said as she searched his face for a reaction. He loosened his hold on her and she feared she had said the wrong thing. "You are no Phantom to me. You are a man. A man that…that I love very much."

He looked down at her and again tears formed in his eyes. He ran his hands through her hair. He looked down into her eyes and she knew he was deciding if he should tell her. It would make him someone else.

"My name is Erik." He said to her while gazing deeply at her face. His eyes scanning, searching for a reaction.

"Erik," she said aloud. She reached up and slowly took hold of the mask he wore. He flinched slightly but made no movement to stop her. She let the mask fall to the floor and it slipped down the stairs. Her hands ran across his scarred and disfigured face. She did not flinch or move away from him. She smiled.

"I love you, Erik." She said as her hands wrapped around his neck. He pulled her closer and she leaned into his chest. The embrace was long and gentle. He held her and she relaxed into him. All her guilt leaving as she settled into his warmth and gentleness. She looked up at him again and this time moved her mouth closer to his. She had dreamed of kissing him again. Would the passion and longing still be there? Would he kiss her back? She slowly kissed his cheek and then the other one. The scarred side just as warm as the other one. She pressed small kisses along his face getting ever closer to his trembling lips.

Part Five

His mind whirled as Christine, his Christine, said she loved him. She used his name and said she loved him. His face felt hot as she moved her mouth along his cheek. She moved over to his "bad" side. She never flinched or looked away. It was as if she couldn't see the obvious difference in his appearance. Her kisses were soft and gentle. She moved over to his mouth and he found he was trembling.

She looked into his face and reached up. He closed his eyes as her hands moved to the sides of his face and gently pulled him down to her. He gasped softly as her lips touched his. He felt like he couldn't breath. Everything was so much more that it had been moments ago. She pressed her lips to his with more warmth than he had ever known. He found himself reacting to her touch. He pushed his mouth tighter around hers and wrapped his arms around her waist. Lifting her off the ground, he was overcome for the first time with joy. He spun her around and she released their kiss as she laughed and clung to him.

The smile on her face was so nice. He almost didn't believe she was here. He waited for the moment when he would wake up into the darkness again. However, something was different this time. This was no dream. She was here with him and she loved him.

He smiled down at her and her face changed for a moment.

"What is it, Christine?" He asked her the concern in his voice obvious.

"I have never seen you smile. Then again, the only time I have seen you in the past two years has been in my mind and in my dreams. So often in my dreams… I remember the night I got married I dreamed…" she looked down and let the words trail off.

"Christine, there hasn't been a night I haven't thought about you. Your voice filled my dreams and your face would appear in front of me everywhere. I know I did the right thing when I let you leave with him. He loved you so much. I couldn't let you stay here. Not after all that I had done. Oh Christine, I was a monster." He looked away from her and sat down on the cold stone floor. He couldn't look at her. She had come back to him. After all the things he had done to her and everyone else, she had still come back to him.

He felt her hands lift his chin so she could look into his eyes.

"Erik," she said his name again and shivers of what could only be delight ran down his back. "You are not the man you once were. I could hear it in your music. The music you had written before was beautiful but harsh and seductive. The music I heard from you tonight touched my soul. It moved me to tears and was haunting and lovely. That is who you are now. We have both changed. You were the Phantom, a strange vision of dark seduction and lust and danger that came to me at night and could control my very being with a look. Now, you are a different person. The smile I just saw lifted my heart. Showed me a side of you that is light and gentle. You are not that creature of the night, Erik. You are the man that I love. The man I have always loved."

She bent and kissed him again. Her warmth flooding into him and his guilt tried to push its way to the surface again. He refused to let it this time as he kissed her back and they stood together. He took her hand and pulled her to him and they sat down together. Before them stretched a lake, dark and mysterious. He glanced to the boat he had sat in with her once a long time ago. He squeezed her hand as she snuggled over to him.

"I remember swirling mists on a vast glassy lake." She looked up at him and smiled before turning back to the waters smooth surface.

Erik put his arm around her and sat there, silent.

Part Six

It was getting late into the night and Christine knew she had to leave. The workers would be getting ready to leave for the evening and she had to meet with the opera house's new manager. That was not a task she was looking forward to doing. She had learned a lot in the two years of being a Viscount's wife. Business, it seemed was one of those things.

She glanced up at her Phantom and smiled to herself. How many times had she dreamed of this even while married to Raoul? She had lost count. She slowly stood up and pulled him up with her.

"You have to go now don't you?" He asked her with a tinge of fear in his voice.

"Yes, I have to deal with the opera house and the new manager this evening. Not something, I am particularly looking forward to. Yet, it has to be done. I feel as if I owe it to Raoul to restore the Opera Populaire to its original glory before…you know." Christine looked away from Erik before turning to leave.

Erik reached out and grabbed her hand as she turned. She caught the look of desperation and fear in his eyes when she looked back. She stopped and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Erik, I am not leaving you. I will never leave you again. I have to go to the meeting with the new manager and settle on some issues with the renovation. Will you wait for me?" Christine smiled at him gently.

"You know I will wait a lifetime for you, Christine. It seems as if I have already waited a lifetime. I will be here when you are finished with your new duties." She could see he did not want her to leave but was trying not to slip into the controlling and obsessive person he had been. For this simple act, she was eternally grateful to him.

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and raced back up the stairs and the hidden hallway to her former room. She was floating as she reached the threshold into her old chambers. Her smile bigger with every stair she had taken. She stepped into her quarters and lit another white candle. The light spread through the room as the flame grew. She looked around and moved over to her armoire to change into a more formal gown.

After fighting with her hair for fifteen minutes, she decided she looked fine and headed down to the nearly completed entrance hall where the grand staircase was getting its finishing touches. The room opened before her. Marble and gold detailing everywhere, there were cherubs and angels lining the walls and over the top of the stairs a set of masks. They were two masks, a comedy and a tragedy one. A friend of her father had donated it to the opera house when he had heard that she was going ahead with the renovation after Raoul died.

She stepped down the grand staircase and smiled to the gentleman finishing the hand carvings along the side railings. She slowed long enough to see what they had been carving. In intricate script, she could read hundreds of names. After reading a few, she realized they were the names of the people that perished in the fire tow years earlier. Christine couldn't believe there had been so many.

As she finished the walk down the staircase, she thought to herself about the phantom, Erik. Had she done the right thing by returning here? All those people died because he had not only loved her but also been obsessed with her. What was she thinking stepping back into his world again? She knew the answer before she even thought it. She loved him.

Once she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw two gentlemen awaiting her arrival. She gracefully walked over to the table they had set up in the middle of the entrance hall. It was more of a welcoming room or chamber than a hall. It had high cathedral ceilings and could accommodate five hundred people at one time. It had been a very grand entrance room a few years ago during the New Year's masquerade. That had indeed been a memorable evening.

A tall thin man stepped forward to introduce himself and the shorter squat man behind him blushed when she shook his hand.

"Madame De Chanley, I am Monsieur Ulric LaDaeu. I am the person you late husband, the Viscount, hired to manage the Opera Populaire. I have only a few questions before I take over the business of running your opera house for you. This gentleman behind me is Monsieur Gerald Falieur. He will be the gentleman handling the promotion of the opera house and he will oversee hiring and dismissal of the stage crew and orchestra." The tall gentleman was very confident as he spoke. He obviously assumed he was speaking to a woman who had no idea what she was doing. This would have to be rectified immediately.

Christine motioned the two men to sit at the table that had been set up for them to use. The waited until she had sat and the seated themselves. This was going to have to be quick and she would have to show no signs of feminine weakness or they would pounce all over her. She was suddenly thankful for all the business and political lessons Raoul had forced into her.

"Gentlemen, before you get ahead of yourselves, I would like to say a few things." She waited just long enough for them to acknowledge her before continuing.

"I was raised in this opera house. I had and may again play lead in a few plays in my time and the one thing I know better than anything, is how an opera house runs. I agreed to let you stay on as manager since my late husband thought you would be an asset to the Opera Populaire. As to the hiring and dismissal of the staff, I have no problem with leaving that to you Monsieur Falieur. You will however, talk to me about each and everyone before any action is taken. Do you have any problems with this request, Sir?" She was deliberate in her sweet tone and flashed her most stunning smile. The effect on the short little man was exactly as she had hoped. He blushed deeply and muttered an agreement.

"Now then, I believe you had some questions Sir?" She asked, as she looked the taller of the two gentlemen over thoroughly.

"I only had a few minor concerns about the managerial duties. I had been told that I would handle money concerns and assure that the staff received payment. I will also search for other talent to bring to the opera house and all charity events and contributions are to go through me as well. Is this all correct Madame?" His tone was cautious but Christine could tell he was challenging her. She would have to set him straight it seemed.

"Monsieur LaDaeu, I am fully aware of the duties my late husband hired you for. I may still be young in the business world but let me assure you that in the world of the stage, I am a veteran. I had a wonderful teacher and have learned to read people very well. What is it you want to ask that you are holding back?" From the look on LaDaeu's face, she could tell she had struck a chord.

He shifted uneasily in his chair before he could recover from her observation. This was just the tell Christine had been looking for. She already had a decent idea of what he was going to ask and she was not sure what she was going say.

"You are indeed an experienced artisan, Madame. I also see that you are very astute and little will get past your watchful eye." Christine could tell he was baiting her, watching her reaction to each and every word. She was determined not to give him the satisfaction.

"Please get to the point, Monsieur." She said as politely as possible.

"I only mention watchful eyes to bring up the incident that caused us to be here now. We all know of the Phantom and that you had an essential role in the disaster that befell this great house. I worry that we may experience a reoccurrence of such a presence if you are going to be a visual presence in the operations of this business." He looked quite pale as he finished. He actually thought that by speaking his mind she would let him go. Raoul had made a huge effort in getting this gentleman and she wasn't about to dismiss him, although he didn't need to know that.

"I assure that that incident has been taken care of. I do not believe we need worry about any Phantom disrupting the operations of the opera house. Let the ghosts of the past rest, Monsieur." With that, Christine politely stood.

"I have other duties to attend to gentleman. I believe you have a well-defined understanding of your positions here. If either of you have any other questions, please let me know." She tilted her head slightly and left the room.

The walk back to her room was a long one. If she had stayed in the apartment that had been given to her, it would have been a short jaunt. Yet as things were, she had to go to the far side of the opera house were the dancers and staff had their quarters. Once the house was full and a running business, again she would have to get a lock for her door.

As she approached her room, she could tell something wasn't as she had left it. The door was ajar and she knew it had been pulled shut before she had left for the meeting. She walked into her room cautiously, searching for anything out of place or missing. Everything seemed normal and the entrance to the catacombs was undisturbed.

She sat in front of the mirror atop her armoire and let her hair fall about her shoulders. A thick bristled brush lay on the top of the armoire and she ran her hand along its course top. She ran it through her lush hair a few times and slipped into a more comfortable nightgown. She slipped on some low shoes and turned towards the mirror that hide the entrance to the Phantoms lair. A spark of fear erupted through her as she stepped towards it. She couldn't tell what was wrong yet something was out of place.

Christine moved through the mirror and into the dark. Silence surrounded her. Suddenly she felt as if she should run and she did. Faster and faster, down hundreds of stairs and through the last threshold into the dimly lit lair of the Phantom. She dashed over to his hidden bedchamber and threw open the curtain closing it off from the rest of the cavernous area.

.She felt that twinge of fear turn into full-fledged horror. She turned and looked around the chamber again. She didn't see him anywhere and her fear was growing. It swept through her like a fire. Filling her soul with a depth of despair, she had never known. Where could he be, she wondered, as she became desperate in her search. She would not lose him now. She had lost too many people she loved already.

"Erik, where are you?" She said aloud but timidly. She dreaded the answer she would get. Worse yet, no answer at all.

Part Seven

He ran through the catacombs that enter twined under the opera house. Someone had been in his chambers and he had a suspicion they got there by way of Christine's hidden door. He had been so deep in thought, remembering Christine's words and her touch that he hadn't noticed the other presence in his inner sanctum. He was cleaning behind the organ when they arrived uninvited. The instrument had performed beautifully but his ear could detect a slight pitch correction.

Erik stopped his cleaning and listened. Someone was moving around in her and it was not the dainty footsteps of his beloved. This person was a stranger and a surge of anger tainted his pleasant mood. Who would dare enter his abode uninvited? They would pay dearly for this intrusion into his domain. Another thought struck him as he sat there preparing to face the unknown stranger. Christine would not want him to hurt anyone. He had done too much of that in the past and he was no longer the Phantom. He was Erik and Christine loved him.

Moving to look around the side of the massive instrument, he tried to peer into the dimly lit room and see who had disturbed his work. As he leaned over a candleholder tipped and fell to the floor. The resulting clatter startling the intruder and whomever it ran towards the labyrinth of tunnels leading out of his chamber.

Erik ran after the strange intruder and into the tunnels. He knew these passages better than any living person and was sure he would catch up to the person in no time. He could her the footsteps fleeing around into the darkness and pursued as fast as he could. Whoever this person was, they were fast. He followed deeper into the catacombs until the stranger's footsteps silenced. He could not tell which way they had gone and his anger erupted again. Who could escape him in his own home?

As he searched around the tunnels, he thought about the situation. He had let Christine go and she had returned to him. She was restoring the Opera Populaire and soon there would be people and music filling its halls. The charred remains of this desolate hovel would be transformed by Christine's touch just as his heart had been. She seemed to have a talent for healing.

He turned and slowly headed back for his inner chambers to search for whatever it was the intruder had been doing there. They must have been searching for him or something he had. He had only recently returned to his former home himself. Besides Christine, who else could know he had returned? He could not think of anyone.

He was lost in thought as he neared his chambers. As he entered the main room, he could hear a soft sobbing. He looked around and saw no one. Then after a moment of listening, he recognized the sound. It was the sound of a soft despair he had heard many times. He had also caused it a few of those times as well. Where was she? He thought to himself as he searched the vast room.

He suddenly realized the sound was coming from behind the organ. He moved over to it quickly and there on the ground sat Christine. She did not seem to notice him as he moved up to her. She was crying and looked to be in such pain. Had the meeting gone that poorly, he wondered. There was something clutched in her frail fingers. As he moved up the stairs to the alcove that held the organ, he became aware of what the object was. It was his mask. He hadn't even realized he had left it behind when he left to pursue the intruder.

"Christine…angel…what's the matter?" He asked gently as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped up at his touch and spun around. She let the mask drop as she reached for him. The sound of the mask as it hit the floor reverberated through the room. Christine was crying, only now harder. She clung to him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"Christine, what is the matter? Was the meeting that bad? What happened?" He held her close until she had calmed down enough to speak to him.

She pulled back and looked up at him. Her eyes teary and red from crying and all he could think, was how beautiful she was. He hair was a disheveled mess and lay haphazardly over one shoulder. Her white nightgown dusty from sitting on the cold ground behind the organ.

"Someone had been in my room. The door was ajar when I returned and I was worried about you. I ran down as fast as I could but you weren't here. I looked for you and called out. I thought something had happened when I found your mask behind the organ. Oh, Erik I thought you had left me or worse, someone had made you leave." She pressed her face back into his chest and clung to him tightly.

The news that someone had been in her room as well as his own sparked a new surge of anger within him. Someone had entered not only his room but also the place where his beloved angel slept. He made a silent vow to find this person and discover what it was they were searching for. If they dared touch his angel of music, it would be the last thing they ever did.

He calmed himself, not wanting to worry Christine further and turned her face up to his own.

"Christine, it would take all the demons in Hell to tare me away from you. They would get more then they bargained for if they tried. Believe me. There was someone in here a few hours ago as well. I was behind the organ cleaning it and I heard their footsteps. I don't believe they knew I was here until I accidentally knocked over a candleholder. They ran and I followed. I hadn't realized I left my mask behind at all. See what you have to me?" He smiled at her and saw some of the tension drain from her face.

"Did you find who it was?" She asked with a degree of fear and worry in her voice.

"No I did not. They know these tunnels as well as I. Honestly, I was overconfident. I did not believe anyone could hide or escape from me here, in this place. It appears that I was wrong." He slowly moved away from her and bent to pick up his mask. He dusted it off and placed it back over the disfigured part of his face. He knew he didn't need it around Christine but with the new discovery of the stranger, he felt better with it.

He turned back to her to find she was trying to get the dirt and dust of her gown. She straightened up and fixed her hair with the expertise of a wardrobe manager. She looked over at him and flashed a brilliant smile that lit the room far more than the candles ever could have. He walked over to her and took her delicate hand in his. He led her to his bed to sit. She sat down and he took a spot on the opposite side of the bed from her.

"Did everything go well with the new manager? You seemed reluctant to meet with him this evening and I wondered how everything had gone." He looked into her eyes and thought he saw a flash of anger in them. He had only once seen her angry and he had been the cause of that flash too.

"Everything went fine. They thought they could move around me as if I was some sort of child and was not able to understand the workings of an opera house. Not to worry though, they know better now. I will not have this restoration fall through and Raoul loved this place even after all that happened here." She let her eyes drift from his face to floor as she spoke. She wasn't telling him something.

"What else happened, Christine? They are wondering about me aren't they?" He already knew the answer by the way she didn't look at him.

"No, Erik they are worried about the Phantom. You are not that person anymore. I let them know that I would deal with all matters that revolved around the Phantom and that they should let the past rest. I think they will listen. I do not like the manager, Monsieur LaDaeu. I know Raoul had every confidence in him yet I feel as if he believes me to be a child. I will have to keep a close eye on him in the future." Christine slipped off the bed and moved over to sit beside him.

Erik watched her as she sat down beside him on the bed. She had grown so much in two years. She was not only beautiful but also stunning. She had a maturity that he had not known in her before. The childish innocence was still there but it had been tempered by time. She was a woman and no longer the child he had known. If it was possible, she had become more than he had ever thought someone could.

He hadn't asked about Raoul's death but he wanted to know what had driven her back into his arms. Should he ask or let it go. No, he should ask about it. They needed to be honest with each other if they were to be together. Too many things had been kept hidden before and that had torn apart whatever future he believed they could have had. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

Part eight

Christine sat next to Erik on the bed and they spoke about the incident with the new manager. He seemed to be taking it well. She had worried he would get upset if he found out about the manager's view about the former Phantom. She slid a little closer and leaned her head onto his shoulder. There was still something bothering him. She may have been away for awhile but she had learned how to read people very well. Another lesson Raoul had her learn.

"I know something else is bothering you. Even with the mask, your eyes are haunted. What is wrong Erik?" She reached over and placed her hand in his. She gently rubbed the inside of his hand and looked through the curtain that separated the bed from the rest of the chamber.

He seemed to be thinking or maybe searching was a better description. He wasn't looking at anything in particular. His eyes were darting around the bedchamber, never resting on any one thing for more than a few seconds. He finally seemed resigned to speak of what was on his mind.

"Christine, I want the two of us to be honest with each other. I don't want to keep any secrets from you the way I once did. We are starting over. I thought you should know that. I wanted to ask you something. Raoul was so young…your age if I remember correctly. Well, closer to your age than I am." He paused again. He seemed either unable or unwilling to bring himself to ask what was on is mind. Christine was sure she had it figured out though.

"He caught malaria. We weren't sure how exactly. He loved to travel and see new places. He loved the sunrise and no matter where we were that day he had to wake up early and see the sun rise over a new place. Neither of us even knew he had been infected until he was very ill. The doctors could do nothing. I was desperate. We traveled to every doctor and hospital we could find. He just got worse. Finally, we had to return home and wait. That was the worse part, the waiting. He was weak. After a few weeks, he could no longer get out of bed so I stayed with him. Oh, Erik he was so sick. He wasted away in front of my eyes. He had been so strong and proud…" She collapsed into him crying. She tried to stop but it was no use. She hadn't told anyone about Raoul and it felt both freeing and horrible at the same time.

She sat by Erik crying for what seemed a very long time. He held her and stroked her hair. How could this man with her have ever done the things he did a few years ago? He was so different. What, she wondered had changed him? Where had he been this long time she had been away?

Christine sat up and took the cloth Erik offered her to dry her eyes. She folded the cloth in her hands repeatedly. Looking at it brought back a memory. She was suddenly on the stage of the former Opera Populaire and she was singing with the Phantom. She was caught up in the depth of the words he had written for her. The music surrounded her as she moved across the stage and into the Phantoms arms. It was a threshold he had pushed her over that night. A point of no return and no turning back.

She snapped out of her reverie as she realized it was the fabric she was holding that had brought back the memory. She stared at it and recognized it as a piece of her costume from that night. So long ago it seemed, she had been an innocent child trying to please her teacher and master. Now, she was older. A few years time had taken it's toll on her and she had to grow up. Time, it seemed had done the same to the Phantom. Time had killed him and before her there was a different person altogether. Yet, it was still him. Still the man that she had fallen in love with. Still the unseen genius that came into her room late at night and taught her to give her voice wings.

Erik leaned over kissed her forehead. Such a simple gesture of caring was nearly enough to send her into a fit of tears again. Somehow, she managed to keep herself together.

"I didn't know, Christine. We may have had our differences but he loved you as much as I did. I will always respect him for that. I will always be indebted to him for getting you out of this hellish night and into the sun where you should always be. Here with me in this dark prison is no place for a flower such as you. I would have wished a better end for him though he gave you more than I ever could and I can see that." Erik stopped speaking. Tears had welled up in his eyes again and he turned away from her to hide his face. Christine knew how much it had hurt to say those things. She knew that somewhere deep inside he hated Raoul for having the time he had gotten to spend with her. She could not be angry with him for that. He had every right to still feel that way.

"I know Madame Giry visited you these past few years. How is she? I haven't seen her since the wedding and she looked…tired. Meg wasn't with her that evening and she didn't mention her either. I thought it rather strange at the time but then everything seemed so strange." Christine could see she had said something wrong. He had gotten up and moved across the room and out into the main chamber. She got up and followed him.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to upset you. I really have no idea what you have been doing or where you have been while I was away. Madame Giry had always been like a mother to me, Meg like a sister. I haven't seen either of them since…" She let her voice trail off as she stood behind Erik and waited for some kind of response. He seemed so angry and sad. What had happened to him while she had been with Raoul?

Part nine

He stood there with his back to her debating if he should tell her what had happened in the time she had been away. He knew he would have to. She had been honest about Raoul and he could tell it had hurt to talk about it. Where should he start? From the beginning or rather the end, he had thought it was the end of him the night he had let her go. He stared out across the underground lake and took a deep breath.

"I left here that night believing I would die. How could I possibly go on without you? I knew you would be happy and that Raoul would keep you safe. You would live in the light and see the brilliant sunlight. I wondered if you would continue to sing. Somehow, I knew you would. The music is deep within your soul. I left and the mob flooded in looking for me. They found nothing. Rather, they found very little. You can see for yourself what they did to my home and my…music. Everything was ruined." He had to stop for a moment and gather himself. He didn't realize how painful this would be.

"I ran deep into the catacombs I knew so well. I could hide many other places. They spread out under the city for miles. I walked a long time before I realized where I was. I found myself in a series of tunnels that led underneath Madame Giry's original home. She showed me where it was once when I was a child. We would sneak out and she would show me many places. It was easy moving about at night. No one was concerned about us then. I stayed there. I didn't know that she had returned there after the opera house had burned. I sat in the tunnels for a few days and I was so hungry. Madame Giry had always arranged everything for me since I could not leave my chambers. Then I heard her. She was singing. I think she must have known I would go there because shortly after I heard her sing she left the house and found her way into the tunnels. I found her a few yards away from where I had been sleeping. She seemed so relieved to see me alive but she was sad. Sad at the circumstances she had to visit me. She told me about you and Raoul rather reluctantly and I told her I had let you go. I believe she thought I was a fool but she understood as well." He turned around and looked back at Christine. She stood there listening to every word.

"Madame Giry would visit me everyday and tell me what was going on in the world above me. She brought me a small harp and I would play for hours. It seemed that Madame Giry was not the only one that listened to my music, Meg did as well. She became attached, if you will, to me. I think she missed the opera house and your friendship. I was a reminder of that but I was angry and hurt. I wanted nothing to do with her or anything else that reminded me of you and what I had lost. Meg would sneak out of the house and come to see me whenever she could. Madame Giry was furious about it and forbade her to enter the tunnels again. She didn't listen." He walked over to Christine and took her hand. He pulled her over to himself and they sat down by the waters edge.

"Meg came down into the tunnels one night, a few months after you had gotten married. She had a bag with her and something else in her hand. She came into the side area where I slept and sat down on the bed. She looked nervous, I remember and excited as well. I sat up and asked her what she was doing there. I told her she should leave or her mother would be furious with the both of us. She refused to leave me. She said she had packed up some things and wanted to leave home and wanted me to go with her. I didn't understand what she meant. I had been so consumed with grief and regret over you and hadn't noticed what was going on with Meg. She had…become infatuated with me. She said she loved me but I tried to tell her she was wrong. She wouldn't listen though. She was hurt. I tried to tell her I couldn't love anyone. My heart had broken the night I let you go and I would never love anyone again. She still would not listen. She tried to tell me that if I gave her a chance I would see that I could love someone else." He was getting angry and upset as he told Christine of what had happened that night. She just watched the lake and listened to him.

"I had stood up by then and was pacing the tiny tunnel I had been staying in. She walked over to me and placed something in my hand. It was this," he pointed to the mask he was again wearing. "She had found it the night she led the mob into my chambers. I didn't know what to say or do. I put it back on and turned away from her. She tried to convince me to leave with her but I still refused. When I turned back around to try to explain there must have been something in my eyes. She looked into them and started to cry. She said she understood. Just as I loved you, Christine she loved me and knew that if she couldn't get me away from the memory of you she did not have a chance. I could see her heart break. Right there in front of my eyes, I had destroyed another sweet soul. She took her bag and left. I assumed she was going home but I was wrong. Later that evening Madame Giry came into the tunnels to see me and asked if I had seen Meg. I told her what had happened and she broke down into tears. She said she knew about the infatuation but thought it nothing more. Meg did not return that night and Madame Giry did not return to see me after that." He stopped talking to look at Christine. Her face was flooded with emotion.

"I have been on my own since that night. Scavenging and finding whatever I could. I stayed close to here but could not bring myself to return. Then one night I had a dream. A dream of you crying in a cemetery and it was so real that I had to come back here. Something drew me back. Then you appeared and I could not believe you were actually here. It was like I was still dreaming." He stopped and looked back over at Christine's face. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. Was she upset with him over what had happened with Meg? He tried to read her, to see a glimmer of forgiveness on her face. He could see nothing but pain.

Part ten

Christine had listened to what Erik was saying. She looked out over the lake and thought about it all. Meg had always seemed so fascinated by her "Angel of Music" and at the same time, she never believed her either. She should have seen it. When everything had started with the Phantom, Meg had started to take more of an interest in him. She had always assumed that she was worried about her but it seems that it was the Phantom she had been worried about. No, she didn't blame Erik. She blamed herself. She had been the one to get Meg involved with everything and she should have seen this coming.

Finally, she looked over at Erik. He was looking at her and seemed worried. How could anyone who knew who him ever hate him? He was kind and caring. He was brilliant and tender and such a wonderful person under all the torment. She understood what it was that Meg had seen in him. Meg got to know the Phantom through her eyes and if Meg had seen half of what she had seen how could she not love him?

"Erik, you didn't know. I should have though. She was practically my sister and she saw you the way I saw you. With love and admiration and she saw you with her heart as I do. I never thought about it though. I was so caught up in my own little world that I never thought of anything but you and Raoul. I am so sorry." She reached out and took his hand in hers.

"I only wish I knew where she had gone to. I haven't seen either of them in over a year. They could be anywhere. Do you think they will return with the opening of the Opera Populaire?" Erik looked almost hopeful as he asked Christine.

"I have been sending messages to Madame Giry. I was hoping she would return to teach the new school of dancers I have been assembling. I have to interview and audition each one and she was so good at that. I trust her judgement and so want to see her return to the opera house. I haven't heard from her as of yet though. So all we can do is wait and see." Christine stood and pulled Erik up to join her. She moved so that he could see her face as she spoke.

"I have lost a lot of people in my life. I do not blame you for any of it. In a way, I do think my father sent you to me. He promised he would send the angel of music to me and I think he did. I will always think of you that way, as my angel of music." She placed a hand on his uncovered cheek and smiled up at him. His eyes sparkled with fresh tears but he did not look sad. He looked relieved.

"I need to go back to my room and get some sleep. I have a long day of auditions and renovations to oversee tomorrow. It is coming along so beautifully. I wish you could see it." She suddenly had an idea. "Erik, it is late and everyone has left. We are the only ones here. The managers stay elsewhere until their rooms are ready and the workers all leave around six so the opera house is empty. Walk with me. See what I am doing with the opera house. I want your opinion and company."

He seemed to be thinking about it. He looked nervous and she was sure he was going to say no. Then something in his face and demeanor changed. He held himself up taller and turned to walk back to the bedchamber. She followed him and saw him reach for a cape. He slung the black wrap around himself and reached out his hand for hers. Together they left the dark catacombs and climbed the stairs to the dimly lit rooms above.

She led him out of her room and through the halls to the newly built stage. It was bigger than before and the news chains that would hold the rebuilt chandelier had been put up this morning. The audience area had been lined with new chairs and the balconies were being furnished in a few weeks. Box five was being rebuilt and she slowly led Erik up.

Outside in the hall there were numbers on all the doors to the private balconies. She led him past all the doors until they reached box five. There on the outside of the door, like the other doors, was a large gold number five. At first, she didn't think he had noticed the difference with this door. Then he saw it.

"Christine, this is box five. Does that plaque say 'reserved'?" He asked with shock in his voice and astonishment in his eyes.

"Yes, it does. It is a permanent placement. This box will never be available to the public, only you and I. I wanted it to be a surprise. I hope you don't mind. That and honestly, I didn't want to worry about the public trying to get the famous 'box five' every night. This will simplify things. Look out over here." She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the long cushioned bench in the center of the balcony. She motioned him to sit on the bench and she joined him.

"When we sit here, we have a perfect view of the new stage. The unique thing about this balcony is I had it completely rebuilt. We can sit here and watch the operas but the people below us and in the other balconies cannot see in. It is a freedom I wanted to give you. I hope you like it." She looked over at him to try to gauge his reaction.

"I don't know what to say. This is wonderful. I will be able to attend an opera like anyone else and no one will know. How did you do this? Never mind. It doesn't really matter. No one has ever done anything like this for me before." He turned stood up and grabbed her, swung her around and wrapped her up in his arms. He was smiling. That was all the thanks she needed from him. She had made him smile and for a few minutes forget all that had happened to him.

"Come on," she said as she pulled him out of the balcony room door and headed to the main staircase. "I have so much to show you. Think of it, for the next few months there will be no one here but us. We can go on walks every evening and you can stay up here with me. I can show you the wonderful things we are doing."

They walked around the parts of the opera house that had been restored enough to travel. Erik would smile occasionally and point out what could be added or the things he didn't like. Christine wanted his approval and opinion on everything that they were doing. She would show him a dressing room or the site for the kitchens. They worked so well together. He knew a lot more about the inner workings of an opera house than she did and his ideas were wonderful. He had ideas for future operas and plays to be held. She would smile and laugh as he suggested a lead role for herself. She wasn't sure if she would take to the stage again. It would be wonderful to get up on stage and sing an aria to an audience of appreciative opera lovers. Could she sing here in this the future Opera Populaire?

Christine was startled from her thoughts when she felt Erik's hand tighten around hers. Something had made him uneasy and he had pulled her over to him as he stopped walking. She looked over to his face and could tell he was listening for something. She strained her ears but heard nothing. Then, a faint sound as if someone was walking above them on the scaffolding. She looked up but could see nothing. She started to move over for a better view but Erik pulled her to him and stepped out of the passageway and under a painter's scaffold.

"There is someone above us. I could hear them move around and follow us as we moved through the passages. They are very nimble and quiet but I have been in the dark all my life and I know how see things. Christine, I want to take you back to my chamber. Then I will come back here and figure out who is following us." Erik took her by the hand and slowly wound his way back to the hallway to her room. He led her down once more into the dark catacombs under the opera house. Once they had arrived in the main chamber across from the lake, he walked her over to his bed.

"I want you to stay here. Please, just listen to me and stay in here. I will return in no more than an hour. I hope that I will know who is haunting us. I did not give up my days as the phantom so someone else could take my place. This is our home and your dream. No one will chase you off again." He leaned down and gave her a kiss before she could object. He left across the lake and headed into the main part of the building.

She stayed in his bed and looked out into the darkness that surrounded her. The last of the candles had burnt out and it was near total dark around her. She thought about lighting a candle but that might alert whoever was wandering around that she was down there. No, she would wait for Erik to return before she lit the chamber again. She lay back on the bed and tried to remain calm and listen for any sign of Erik's return. Nothing but silence answered her as she breathed a prayer for the man she loved.

Part eleven


	2. Chapter 2

Part fourteen

Christine followed Erik as he stalked across the chamber to a chest hidden behind the organ. She saw him pick up his cape that had been draped across it and slip on a pair of gloves. A pair of jet-black gloves that she had seen many times before. He slung the cape over his shoulders before putting the gloves on and turned around to face her. She froze in horror and stood there stunned. She knew that face, the one that was now behind the mask. She was looking into the eyes of The Phantom of the Opera.

He did not seem to notice her as he swung down the stairs and headed for the passages that lead into the opera house. Christine knew she had to stop him. He was angry and there were a great deal of people out there that could get hurt if they got in his way. He could get hurt. She ran after him and reached his arm, as he was about to ascend the stairs.

"No, Erik don't go. Not like this…please." There must have been something in her voice for he stopped but did not turn around.

"I will not let anything else happen to you. I can not stand to see you frightened or hurt anymore. Let me deal with this. I will find who has been tormenting us and they will pay for it. No one will scare you ever again." She heard the anger in his voice and was frightened. The Phantom had returned and she didn't know if she could bring Erik back.

"_You_ are scaring me." This was the only thing she could think to say.

Erik turned around and looked at her. She was on the verge of tears and she wondered what he was thinking. He moved over to her and unfastened the cape. He wrapped his arms around her as it floated to the floor. She leaned into him as he held her.

"I am so sorry, Christine. I don't know what happened. I just…I was so furious that someone would hurt you and scare you. Yet, here I was doing all of the things I hate someone else for doing. I can not lose you again, Christine. I would die without you." She felt him bury his face into her hair and she hugged him back.

She pulled back and took his hands in hers. She removed the black gloves and dropped them to the floor. She gazed up into his eyes and although Erik was back, she could still see the anger in them. The Phantom would always be there. It was a part of who he was and the first part she had fallen in love with. She moved her hands along his face and over to the half-hidden part covered by the white mask. She slowly removed it and let it fall. Erik tried to turn his face away but she kept her hand there and turned him to look at her.

"I love all of you, not just the good parts. I don't want you to hide behind a mask with me. There is no distortion here anymore only a face. The face of the man that I love and I want to see it, for the rest of my life." She pushed her self up on her toes and kissed him where his mask usually sat. She could feel the anger and tension drain out of him.

"I understand that the phantom is a part of you and always will be. I fell in love with that dark mysterious side of you. I don't want it to die for then a part of the man I love will be gone with it. I only want it to stay out of sight for awhile. This is our home now and together we will deal with the problem. If you take off as the Phantom and something happened to you, I would be alone again. I can not lose another person I love Erik." She kissed him again and waited for him to say something.

He took her hand and led her to the boat. She wasn't sure where he was taking her but she trusted him and climbed into the boat along side him. She sat down and they started out over the underground lake. She looked around her at the statues and lit candles. Their reflection on the lake looked like tiny fireflies dancing on a black glass table. She sat there remembering her first ride in this boat on the glassy lake. She could see the swirling mists and smooth surface as they floated along the water logged passages.

"I have places along the lake and the passages to the lake set up with alarms of a sort. No one will enter my abode again without my knowledge. I want you to feel safe and even though I will listen to you and not hunt this fiend down right now, I will make sure they can not get into my home again." She heard the determination in his voice and was relieved that he was going to stay with her.

"I want to ask you something, Christine. I can not stand not having you near me and when you leave for the night, all I can do is worry. I want you to sleep in my chambers where at least I feel as though I have some control. You can have the bed or we can bring yours here. I know it isn't much but it is all I have known and I want to share this with you. I don't believe I would be able to stay in the opera house. Someone would see me and that … that would only make things difficult." He looked out over the lake and maneuvered it through a small flooded hall and into another large cave.

She knew how difficult that had been, admitting that he would never fit in among her world. She would be away all day and he would be trapped down here in his private world, his own dark hell. She was the only ray of sun in his world. How could she possibly refuse him this one thing. She wanted to be with him as much as he wanted her. She could spend her nights down here with the man she loved. May be someday he would venture into the light with her.

She watched him as they floated along. He had not put the mask back on but she knew he would. It was the only insecurity he had and he would more than likely always have it. The disfigurement had been the start of a torturous life for him. No one, with the exception of Madame Giry, had ever cared for him. Even his mother had thrown him away upon seeing his deformation. How horrid his life must have been. She knew she would never truly know the pain he had been through. She could only try to spare him any such pain in the future. Thinking of Madame Giry had brought the encounter back to her. She should tell Erik that she had returned to run the ballet and school.

As she was about to bring up the subject of Madame Giry, everything went dark. They had entered another cave but this one did not contain any of the candleholders the previous ones had. There was no light here and she couldn't remember if they had brought a torch with them or not.

"Sit still, I will have some light for you in just a moment." Erik said calmly as they continued to drift. "We are almost there."

Suddenly, a light blazed into existence. She couldn't tell where he had produced the flame from but a torch on the front of the boat was aflame. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed something sparkling. Actually, many things were surrounding her in a dazzling show of what looked like stars. All over the ceiling of the cave were what seemed to be tiny lights glittering in the dimly lit area. The tiny jewels twinkled as the torchlight flickered over them.

Her breath caught as the light spread into the cave as they floated towards the middle of the chamber. The firelight illuminated the large chamber they were in and millions of pinpoints along the ceiling and walls were sparkling. The area seemed to be covered in a layer of diamonds that glittered every time the fire flared.

"What is this place?" She asked Erik as he stopped the boat

"I found this place when I left two years ago. I was wandering around down here after the incident with Meg and drifted into this chamber. I think it had been closed off until the fire at the opera house. I think the glittering stones in the walls are quartz but they always made me think of you. The night you sang the aria for Carlotta your hair was covered in sparkling flowers. I thought you might like to see something beautiful in this deep dark place. I couldn't ask you to stay if I couldn't offer a small amount of beauty." Erik smiled down at her and she turned back to look at the show around her.

"This is so lovely. I have no problem spending my nights down here with you. But I do need to tell you something." She was actually nervous about the meeting with Madame Giry. He needed to know though.

"When I went to audition the girls there was no one there. I couldn't understand where all the girls had gone until I heard someone behind me. When I turned around it was Madame Giry." She stopped to look at Erik and see how he was reacting. He had his face turned into the dark and even the torch's glow didn't light it enough for her to see him clearly.

"She said she had received my letter and had auditioned all the girls already. She thought there was some promising talent there. I asked her if this meant she was returning to her former post and she said it did. However, she added that as long as the managers and I left her to her business and run things the way she saw fit, she would stay. I didn't know what to say but she didn't give me the chance. She walked right out the door without saying another word. That is when I left and the scrapper fell." She stopped talking and waited for Erik to turn around or say something. Instead, he turned the boat around and moved it to the lit tunnels they had used to get there.

She sat in silenced and wondered what he was thinking. She knew Erik was close to Madame Giry. She had been the one person in his youth that ever cared for him but she had left him too. Did he want to see her? Was he mad at Madame Giry for deserting him after she had left? She wondered if she should even ask what he was thinking.

The journey back to the catacombs Erik called home was made in silence. He didn't seem in the mood to talk. She sat in the boat quietly and once they reached his chambers, she followed him out of the boat. He walked over to his mask and put it back to its familiar place over his scarred skin. He walked over to his gloves and placed them over his hands before turning back to her.

"I need to go see Madame Giry. She left and didn't tell me why. I haven't seen her or Meg in years and there is something going on here at the opera house. If anyone would know what it is, it would be her." Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him walk away. She did not try to stop him this time but she wasn't going to let him go alone.

"I am going with you. Don't try to tell me to stay here for my own safety. Who could keep me safer than you could?" She waited for him to argue with her but to her surprise he turned around and reached for her hand.

She took his hand and followed him into the hidden passages that wound through the Opera Populaire. She hadn't realized how much access the Phantom had had to the rooms and offices inside the opera house. He could get to any room he wanted without ever being seen. Erik must have used these hidden tunnels when he followed her and Raoul around the building. This also explained how he knew so much about what was going on within the walls of the Opera Populaire.

Erik led her to the other side of the building where the offices had been before the fire. Madame Giry's office had been one of the biggest ones and received very little fire damage. Christine made sure the room would be ready for Madame Giry if she had ever decided to return and now that she had this was the most likely place to find her. She followed him to a long hall that was lined with small doors. She assumed each one led to a different office but how did he know which one belonged to which room?

Erik stopped in front of the third door they came to. She looked it over for some sign that this was Madame Giry's office but could not find anything to make it different from the other doors. She waited for Erik to open the door but he just stood there and looked at it. After a few minutes, Erik turned and moved over to her. She looked over to him as he approached and saw a slight flash of nervousness in his half-hidden features. She could tell this was something he needed to do but he would have preferred to be here by himself. She should not have forced herself in her with him but she didn't want to be left alone again.

She was thinking about telling him she would leave or that he didn't need to do this right now when she felt his hand on her shoulder. She looked up and met his eyes. Before she could react, he kissed her and turned to go through the door.

Part fifteen

He had been wondering what to say to Christine as he led her through the intricate network of tunnels within the walls of the Opera Populaire. He was upset that she hadn't told him about Madame Giry but at the same time, so much had been going on, he understood that she was distracted. He loved her more than anything in this world and it hurt to be upset with her over anything.

He stopped in front of the third door in and listened. Christine was looking at the door as well, for what he wasn't sure. He listened carefully but heard no sound come from within. This had been Madame Giry's office and he had been here many times before. This is where she would meet him when he had needed something. She kept his money for him and ran errands for him as well. He moved closer and listened closely for any sound on the other side of the door. Then he heard it. The familiar shuffle of papers that would signal Madame Giry was alone.

So, she knew he was here already but did she know Christine was with him. He couldn't tell but he was going to leave her here safely hidden in the passages. He would deal with this problem on his own. He was going to reach for the door when he remembered that he hadn't said anything to Christine the entire way here. She was more than likely wondering why he was silent. She was not a fool and he was sure she could tell he was upset. He could not speak to her here or Madame Giry would learn that Christine was with him and he didn't want her to know that yet.

He turned around and saw the look of concern and sadness on her face. She was deep in thought as he walked over to her. He placed his hand on her shoulder and when she looked up at him, he kissed her. He turned around and walked to the door. This was it. He drew himself up and entered the dimly candle lit room to face the woman he had trusted with his life.

He slipped into the room silently behind the desk that Madame Giry was seated at. She didn't turn around, only motioned for him to come around to the front of the desk. For some reason, this simple gesture angered him. He took a deep breath and remembering that Christine would be able to hear everything they said, he calmly moved to the front of the desk. He turned around to face Madame Giry and was shocked to see how old she looked after only two years.

"I see you have returned home, Monsieur. I hope all the noise is not bothering you too much. I hear the renovations will be finished soon and you may start right where you left." The tone in her voice was icy and hard. Once again his anger spiked and he didn't catch it in time.

"How _dare_ you speak to me that way! You left me. You left me alone for almost two years. Don't you dare talk to me about the past. I have paid for my sins in more ways then you will ever know. First Christine left and then you left me as well. What makes you think you have any right to treat me like a child?" He could not hold back the venom in his voice as he let out all the anger he had been holding in at her.

"You are right, Sir. You are no child. You are a monster that revels in the destroying of young lives. I care not if you were left on your own for a few years to wallow in your guilt. I was left without a daughter. Two daughters if you would be so kind as to include Christine. She left because for once in your life you saw something good and pure and let her go. It was the most human I had ever seen you. Now she has returned to the opera house. She owns it now that The Viscount has passed away. She is a grown lovely woman and I could not bring myself to be kind to her." Erik watched as Madame Giry stood and walked over to him with tears ion her eyes. "She reminded me of Meg so much that I had to be strict with her to keep my composure. I miss them both so much."

Erik watched as the tough and stern women let a single tear fall to the floor before composing herself. He walked over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. He gently squeezed the thin women and looked down at her.

"I will always be a monster, Madame Giry. Even with the love I so yearn for and need. I am sorry I did not recognize what was happening with Meg. I was lost in my own thoughts and despair that nothing else seemed to matter. I should have seen it and I didn't. She just left and I assumed she was returning home. I am eternally sorry about Meg." He let his hand fall to his side and turned to leave.

"Monsieur, be careful in this new Opera Populaire. There are people here that wish our new owner harm. I know how you feel about her and if she is still here than you have seen her already. I am sure that the scrapper was no accident and they either wish harm to Madame Chagny or they are trying to draw you out again. I believe both. Stay hidden, Sir and watch your temper." She moved back to her desk and sat down.

Erik turned towards the door and as he swept by the candles, they went out. He was slipping into his former self and if that is what it took to protect Christine, so be it. He moved through the door and quietly shut it behind him. He looked back over to Christine only to find she wasn't there. The dust around where she had been sitting was disturbed and he saw two sets of footprints. He left her alone and something had happened to her. He lost all control he had and started racing after the footprints. He flew through the passageways and stopped outside the main stage entrance.

The footsteps stopped at the hidden door behind the backstage dressing rooms. He listened for any people and thought he may know a better way. He back stepped and went up into the rafters. Up here had a vantage point few ever saw. He moved along the beams fluidly and searched the areas below him for any signs of Christine. He could hear someone moving below him. He shifted his weight, grabbed a rope and swung down to the stage level. He landed gracefully and spun, flinging his cape in a blinding arch and launched himself at the intruder.

He felt himself collide with the stranger as his anger flared again. He was seething with rage as he grabbed at the person struggling within the folds of his cape. He spun around again, flinging the person across the stage and untangling his cloak at the same time. He ran after the tumbling victim of his anger and halted as the stranger turned around to face him.

There before him was Christine. He dress was torn and her arm was bleeding again. He reached out and grabbed her to his chest. All his anger draining out of him along with the strength it had forced through him. He collapsed to his knees and held Christine as she slipped to the floor. She had fainted when she turned around and saw him, the Phantom chasing her across the stage.

"Damn you. I will find you and you will pray for mercy from the Phantom. You will curse this day." He yelled out into the darkness. Somewhere in the vast space of the main stage, he heard someone laughing.

He picked Christine up and carried her down to his chamber and lay her on his bed. She was bleeding again and he got new cloths to exchange for the old ones. She had a slight bump and bruise on her forehead. He moved his hand to brush away the hair and get a better look at the bump. She had definitely been hit by something hard. He went to get a wet rag and found something else. A note lay on his desk where he sat to write his music. I was written in a flowing hand and was addressed to him or rather to the Opera Ghost.

**_Opera Ghost,_**

_**I will give you this one warning: Leave the Opera Populaire before opening night or a disaster shall befall your precious Christine Chagny. Do not try to find me. This is the only warning I will give you.**_

_**With utmost respect,**_

_**The Opera Populaire Rose**_

Erik read over the note a few more times before he could get his temper under control. This "Rose" knew how to get him angry and it seemed when he lost his temper he was dangerous. This person would have to be found before the grand opening. He placed the note into the flame of a nearby candle and smiled to himself as he watched it burn. This had gone far enough and twice this stranger had hurt Christine. He picked the damp rag up and twisted it in his gloved hands as he debated the fate of the "Opera Populaire Rose".

He was deep into his thoughts when he heard Christine start to moan. He snapped out of his reverie and rushed to her side. She was starting to wake up and her hair had fallen back into her face, covering the bruise that was forming around the small knot on her head.

"Erik…angel…why…" Christine was mumbling quietly. She tosses her had from side to side a few times. Her eyes were closed but they seemed to be searching for something or someone.

"Christine," he placed the cool rag on her forehead and sang softly to her. "Christine, angel of music hide no longer…" He waited as her eyes fluttered open.

She opened her eyes and tried to sit up but a looked of pain crossed her face and she lay back down. Her eyes were closed again but she was rubbing her head where the knot was slowly shrinking. Her hand stopped moving and her eyes opened slowly. She looked around a second and her eyes settled on him. He placed his hand on her cheek and pushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes.

"I was so worried about you, angel. How are you feeling? Do you remember who hit you?" He helped her up into a sitting position and she looked confused. "What's wrong Christine? Do you not remember who it was? Did you see them?"

"Yes, I saw them." She said still looking confused. "It was you."

Part sixteen

She looked around the room. She was in Erik's bed and he was sitting beside her with what looked like a wet rag in his still gloved hand. She tried to remember what had happened and why her head hurt so much. She had been sitting and waiting for him, she remembered that. She tried to remember and heard Erik talking to her. He was asking her who had hurt her. Did she remember who had done this?

Yes, she remembered. He had. She told him it had been the Phantom that had hurt her. Yet, that did not seem right either. She looked at him and saw shock and pain register on his face.

"What do you mean it was me? I was in the room with Madame Giry. I left her office the same way I came in and you were gone." He looked so sincere, she believed him. Who had she seen then.

She slid over to where he was seated and looked in his eyes. She had to see. His eyes had never lied to her and she had to believe what she had seen was wrong. Her angel wouldn't hurt her. He loved her. She touched his face and looked deep into his soul. Then she noticed something different about him that may have just proved him right.

"I don't remember everything. It seems so blurry and my head hurts but something is wrong. I was sitting there outside the door trying to listen to Madame Giry. I remember you yelled and then it seemed quiet. As I sat there, I heard someone moving towards me. When I looked over, I saw you. At least I thought it was you. It was dark but I saw the cape, gloves and even the mask. I was so sure it was you. I didn't think it could be anyone else. I stood up and went over to the person and you…they turned and ran so I followed. I remember thinking that something must be wrong and I tried to keep up. Then they stopped in the back stage area. I noticed they were holding something. I am not sure what but I went over to see what had made you run from me. Then there was this noise coming from the passages and you…well the stranger turned and then…I remember blue eyes behind the mask. Erik, they weren't _your_ eyes." She threw her arms around him as relief rushed over her.

"Oh, it wasn't you! I couldn't understand why you would hurt me. I was so scared. Who is this stranger and why do they wish me harm?" She was still confused.

Erik wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. He reached around her and removed his gloves. She watched as he released her and walked over to his chest hidden behind the organ. Her eyes followed him as he carefully opened the chest and put the black gloves and rope back into it. He closed the lid and lifted the solid box. Erik walked over to the waters edge and as she watched, he threw the chest into the underground lake. He stood there, watching as it sank and her heart went out to him.

She wanted to go to him but when she tried to stand her legs felt weak and she slipped to the floor. He must have heard her fall for within seconds he was back at her side. He lifted her back to the bed and sat down with her.

"I can not be the Phantom anymore. That is what this person is hoping for. They are baiting me and I fear they hope to use you as the bait. What better way to get a beast than to lure it with such beauty? I will not be that person again. My temper needs restraint and if I continue to act before I think, I worry it may cause me more than I am willing to pay. No more lasso and no more gloves, I do not need them anymore. What I need is you, my sweet angel always here beside me. Oh Christine, I love you so much." He ran his fingers through her hair.

She sat there enjoying his touch when she remembered what he had asked while they were on the lake earlier. She now thought it a very good idea to stay here with him at night. He could guard her and protect her from whatever it was out there. She turned to look at him and slipped her fingers around his.

"Erik, I think that staying here at night would be a wonderful idea. I can not think of a better way to spend my evenings than with you." She smiled and he gave a deep sigh of relief.

"Then I will get your bed and bring it down here. If that is what you want…" He looked away for a moment and she waited for him to look back.

"I think this bed would be fine. It is plenty big enough and if I started moving my furniture around someone would notice that. I have no problems with sleeping in this bed. That is as long as you don't mind." She could feel her face getting warm as he stared at her.

"No, please the bed is all yours. I want you to be safe and I can keep an eye on you here. I want you here with me." Erik's dark colored eyes brimmed with something new. A yearning she hadn't seen since the night of the fire.

"I never said I wanted to be here alone. I want you here beside me. I don't want to be alone ever again." She pulled him down to her and kissed him deeply. All the tension and nervousness melting in his arms. He lay there with her and she nestled close to him on the bed. She relaxed there on the bed with him thinking of all that had happened over the past week. She had five months until the grand opening and they would have to settle this other problem before then. They would fix this problem together. No one would hurt her again. She had seen that look in Erik's eyes and new he would do anything to protect her. She only wondered if this stranger knew how far he would go. She knew. She had seen what he could do when he thought he was protecting her. For the first time, she was thankful for his protection and for his love. There was nothing keeping them apart anymore and she could lay next to her love and feel no guilt or fear.

Christine drifted off to sleep and dreamed of a cemetery, a friend from long ago, a father, an angel and a Phantom.

Part seventeen

Erik sat up slowly trying not to wake Christine. It was still early in the evening and she could use the sleep. He could too but there were things he still had to figure out. He moved over to the desk where he had found the note earlier, relieved to find it empty. He placed his head into his hands and thought over everything that had been going on.

Madame Giry had warned him to be careful and then this "Rose" tricked his angel. Christine had believed this imposter and she had followed him blindly into the dark. He sat there going over everything in his mind, trying to control his anger at this stranger that had intruded on his perfect dream. He had learned a tough lesson this night. To win this twisted game he now had to play, he would have to be Erik not the Phantom. This "Opera Populaire Rose" knew many things about the Phantom but only Christine knew Erik. He would have to think this out and not react on his fears and anger. Who could it be?

He went over all the details. This person was quick and graceful. They knew the opera house as well as he did so it stood to reason that they had been here for a long time. They must have worked here before the fire. They knew what he looked like and how to reproduce his effects. The cape, gloves and mask were just finishing touches on his persona. They copied how he moved and the way he stood. Christine had completely believed it was he behind the mask of the stranger. A superb actor, this pseudo-phantom was turning out to be and quite a worthy adversary.

He stood and paced around the chambers. He thought over everything. The appearance of this person in his home had not been something he had ever thought of. He had little in the way of defense down this far. The other passages and catacombs were riddled with his traps and misdirection's but here he had always felt safe. He walked the path around the bed that now held the sleeping Christine. He stopped beside the bed and glanced down at her.

She was mumbling something but he could not make out what it was. Should he wake her from this dream she was drifting in or should he let her sleep and resolve this demon on her own? He stroked her hair and decided to let her sleep. He was still surprised and the depth of feeling he had for her. Every time she stepped near him, he was over come by the urge to take her in his arms. He wanted to touch her, to feel her with him. He longed to lay there with her, kiss her and keep her here forever.

He walked away and looked out over the lake. He had so much to thank her for. She had given him his life back. After Madame Giry and Meg had left him, he had been alone. Alone for so long that time seemed to have stopped. Every day was like the one that had come before it. He had been so lonely and so desperate for Christine that he had begun to hear and see her everywhere. He could hear her singing softly to him every time he closed his eyes. He would turn a corner in a passageway just to see a part of her dress turn another corner ahead of him. It did not matter how hard he ran, this figment was always ahead of him. Always just out of reach of his desperate tries to catch her.

As he looked over the lake, he thought of what Christine had said about the other "Phantom". The stranger had blue eyes, she said. He had dark eyes and always had. Something fell into place in his mind and he turned to wake Christine. He knew who the Opera Populaire Rose was and he needed to tell Christine. This could be much more dangerous than he had ever thought.

Part eighteen

_Christine walked through the cemetery. Her feet were drawing her ever closer to the two stone memorials. She recognized the cold hard monuments as the mausoleums that held the remains of her father and late husband. She walked first to the one of her father. She had been here so many times that she felt almost comfortable outside the stone walls. She sat down on the steps outside her father's tomb. The air was chilly and autumn leaves littered the ground. She looked around for something. She could hear violin music coming from within the mausoleum and it floated to her as she stared into the iron wrought doors guarding his grave. _

_There was a soft white glow coming from within the tomb and a figure moved within. A tall man with dark hair, walked out of the tiny building playing a violin. It was her father and he looked exactly as he did when she was a child. He looked at her and stopped playing the violin. Christine slowly got to her feet and stared at the apparition before her._

_"Father, is it you?" She moved up the stairs slowly._

_"Hello child. You have grown. You look so much like your mother. I hear you have a voice like hers as well." The calming voice that floated from the apparition was indeed her fathers. She ran up the rest of the stairs and into his arms._

_"Father, I have missed you so much. I am lost and alone. Why did everyone leave me?" She cried on her father's shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her. His embrace was cold and she remembered her father was no longer living. The chill of his touch spread through her as she pulled back out of his embrace._

_"I know, I have to leave you again Christine. Remember that you are not alone. I have sent the Angel of Music to guard you and to guide you. You are safe now. Safe." She watched as he put his violin back up under his chin and played a soft lullaby. He turned and walked back into his leaf littered tomb._

_Christine turned from her father's resting-place and moved to the one next to it. It was Raoul's, her beloved husband. They had traveled the world together and that had been his demise. After he had gotten sick, they had to return to his home and rest. What a slow and painful time that had been. She knelt at his gravesite. The building marking his grave was modest but elegant. He would not have wanted something grand or ostentatious. That is not who he had been. _

_"Raoul, I miss you very much. You showed me so many things that I would never have seen if I hadn't left with you. The Phantom let me go and I saw the sunrise over more countries than I can remember. I wish I knew if you were upset with everything or if this was what you would have wanted." She stayed there for a few minutes more, listening. Hoping he would appear to her as her father had, she waited. _

_Somewhere off in the distance there came a clattering sound. She slowly got up and cast Raoul's grave a last look before she left in the direction of the noise. As she drew closer, she recognized the sharp sound echoing off the other tombstones. It was the sign of tow swords locked in battle. Who would be in a cemetery fighting among people's graves? She started to sprint towards the fighters. She had a bad feeling she knew who she would find._

_She heard a loud cry of pain and ran past a large stone angel. There in the distance two figures battled with one another. The first one spun and a flowing cape flung out from around his shoulders, throwing the other man off guard. She stopped just shy of the dueling pair. The second man dropped to the ground and rolled out from under the flowing black shadow._

_Christine stood in horror as she watched Raoul and the Phantom swing their deadly swords at each other. She watched, unable to decide what to do. Here she was watching her two greatest loves try to kill each other. She wanted to run into the middle of them and stop them. She moved forward but stopped just outside the range of their spinning dance. She could see that Raoul had been cut on his arm but he had gotten a good swipe at the Phantoms leg. They were both bleeding and breathing heavily. She moved a few steps closer and could here them arguing._

_"Why won't you let her go? Give her back her freedom and give her back to me!" Raoul yelled at the Phantom as he lunged for his chest with the point of his sword. The Phantom leapt out of the way and parried with a wide arching swing. As he swung his sword around his fluid cape hid his arm and he nipped Raoul's left shoulder with his blade. Raoul pulled his arm back and stepped retreated to catch his breath._

_"You can not have what does not want you. She is mine and I will not let you interfere with us anymore. You arrogant little man, thinking something as pure as she would want you." The Phantom called to Raoul as he had stopped to rest against a tombstone. His leg was bleeding heavily and he looked exhausted. The two men stared at each other. Their faces reflecting the hate they felt in their hearts. _

_Christine's heart cried out to the two men that were fighting over her. She seemed to have lost the ability to talk or even move. She struggled to get over to them but it felt like she was walking in thick mud. The harder she tried to reach them, the thicker the air seemed to become. She stopped and watched as they attacked each other again._

_Raoul and the Phantom launched themselves across the space that separated them. Both had their swords aimed at the others heart. Christine watched as their swords collided in a shower of sparks. The Phantom pushed hard at Raoul and he started to loose his footing. Just as it seemed that Raoul was going to fall and the Phantom surely win, another figure appeared between the two. It was a girl, or rather a woman with long blond hair and clear blue eyes. The same eyes she had seen behind the mask when she had been attacked._

_Meg stepped out of the shadowy tombstones and statues. She walked right into the middle of the fighting and Christine was sure she would be killed. To her surprise both men stopped fighting and looked at Meg. She looked from one fighter to the other and spoke to them in a calm childlike voice that Christine hadn't heard in years._

_"Why are you fighting each other? Raoul, you love Christine and you," she looked over at the Phantom, "love her as well. Only one of you can truly have her heart. There she is. Why not simply ask her who she wants to spend her life with?" _

_Meg had a cruel smile on her lips and the two men did not seem to notice. They agreed and as she seemed stuck in time, she waited for them. She watched as Meg and her two loves walked over to her with grim determination. She saw the hope and fear in their eyes. She looked at Meg and was horrified to see a grin so broad and twisted it made her blood run cold. _

_"Christine, we can not continue to fight over you for all eternity. You must make your choice." The Phantom was the first to speak to her as she stood there in agony over his words. "Christine, you are the only person I have ever loved. You fill me with a light I have never known. Don't condemn me to wallow in the hell I have so long been unable to escape. Love me, that's all I ask of you." She watched in tortured silence as a tear fell from the eye under his white mask._

_She looked over to Raoul as he started to talk to her. His words ringing in her ears as she remembered staying with him as he had died slowly before her. _

_"We have known each other since we were children. I know what your heart feels and I can save you from this dark spectre before you. Let me be your light and I will show you the love of the sun and the daylight. I will protect you from the darkness you have wandered in for so long. Christine, I love you." Raoul looked at her with pleading eyes. How could she choose between them again? She loved them both and yet differently. _

_Raoul was a comfort. She knew him all her life and they had grown up together. He had known her father and remembered what it was like when things had been simpler. He loved her for who she had been and who he thought she had become. He had already left her hadn't he? He was gone now and all she had was the Phantom. Why did he not know he had left her alone?_

_"Raoul, you left me. I tried to keep you but I could do nothing. Don't torture me this way. Don't make me hold on to a memory of what was but can never be again. If you have ever loved me than it is you that must let me go. I can not love a ghost or an apparition." She saw tears fall from his haunted eyes. He seemed so alive. His arm was still bleeding and the nick on his shoulder had covered his sleeve in the red liquid. Why was he doing this? Why were they both doing this?_

_Meg moved up in front of them and centered on Christine. She looked deep into her eyes and all Christine could see was hatred. A cold dark hole in her soul filled with loathing and she knew not why._

_"You had them both. Why did you leave him Christine? You hurt him. You broke his heart and his soul. He loved you more than anything and now he can love no more. I loved him too! You couldn't leave and be happy with Raoul could you?" Meg shouted at her and stepped closer._

_"Meg, I chose him. He told me to leave. He made me leave him after I had chosen him over Raoul. He loved me so much. He wanted me to be happy. I was happy until Raoul died. I have and always will love Raoul but he is gone and there is nothing I can do to change it. I am sorry he doesn't love you, Meg." Christine watched as Meg's face contorted with hate and anger._

_"If you were dead, he would love me! He would have no one left and he wouldn't even be able to lie to himself about you. He would have to love me. He would have to!" Meg turned around and grabbed the sword from Raoul's hand and lunged it at Christine. _

_Christine closed her eyes and waited for the searing pain but instead she heard a grunt and felt a heavy weight crash into her. She opened her eyes as she fell. The Phantom had stepped in front of the sword and Meg had not been able to stop in time. Christine rolled over and saw the Phantom on the ground, the sword still protruding from his chest. Blood was flowing out of him with every heartbeat and covering the ground around her. She slid over to him and took his head in her hands. She removed his mask and looked into his pained eyes._

_"No, don't leave me. I can not lose you too. Please…please stay with me. I came back to you so you can not die. Do you understand me? You can not die and leave me alone again!" She bent over his body and felt the warmth start to leave him._

_"Christine, I love you…" He touched her face and a single tear rolled down the side of his cheek. Christine held him while his breathing slowed and finally stopped. She gave him a kiss on the forehead before placing him back on the cold ground._

_"I love you too." She muttered to him before she stood up and turned around to face Meg._

_She turned and saw that no one was there anymore. Meg and Raoul were both gone and when she turned back to the Phantom, he had disappeared as well. She ran through the cemetery looking for any sign of them but found nothing. Then she heard it, someone was calling her name. _

_"Christine…Christine…" The voice was getting louder and the world around her was slipping._

Christine opened her eyes to see Erik sitting beside her on the bed, gently shaking her shoulder and calling to her. Relief flooded through her as the dream disappeared into the lights of the candles that surrounded them. She flung her arms around Erik and cried, thankful everything had been a dream. She needed to tell him she knew who the other Phantom was though it looked like he had something he wanted to say as well.

Part nineteen

He wrapped his arms around Christine as she sobbed softly. She must have had a dream that disturbed her deeply. Her kissed the top of her hair and tried to sooth her. She muttered something into his chest and he had to wait until she was calm before he could get her to repeat it.

"Christine what were you saying?" He asked her gently as she composed herself.

"It is nothing just a horrible dream. You and Raoul were fighting and my father was there. Then as if things couldn't get worse, Meg showed up and she hated me. Hated me because I had you and Raoul. I tried to tell her that I had chosen you first and that you let me go. She wouldn't listen. She tried to kill me…she tried…but you stepped in front of the sword and you died. I watched you die Erik. Oh, it hurt so much to watch you die like Raoul did. Right in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do." She looked away from him as she tried to gather herself again.

"Christine, I have to tell you something. When I brought you back here after the incident on the stage, I found a note. It was from the mysterious visitor that has been roaming the opera house. They called themselves the "Opera Populaire Rose". I didn't want to make you more upset than you already were so I burned it. They addressed it to Opera Ghost." He had not wanted to tell her about the note but if he was right about whom the "Rose" was, they had reason to worry.

She looked down at her hands before saying anything.

"I think I know who it is. You know don't you?" She looked up at him, her eyes pleading him not to say the name she was thinking.

"Yes, I put it together. They moved around with the agility of a dancer and knew the opera house as well as I ever did. Even the passages down here seemed to be an easy hiding place for them. It takes years to learn these tunnels and this network of winding passages. I figured it out when you told me about the eyes. A clear blue color and I only know one person that was a match to everything we knew." He waited, not wanting to shatter her hope that they were thinking of different people.

"It is Meg isn't it?" She kept staring at her hands, refusing to meet his eyes and acknowledge that she was right.

"Christine, I believe it is and I think we have a very bad problem. She believes she is in love with me but I think you already know what the danger is. She will try to get rid of you to get to me. I think your dream was a warning. I don't know how to keep you safe anymore. She knows all the places I do and now that things are changing, she may know them better." He turned her face up to his. "I will not let anything happen to you. I will give my life before I see you harmed again Christine."

"I know Eric and that is what I am afraid of." She stood up and went out of the bedchamber. She looked out across the lake to the boat. It floated there so clam and oblivious. The lake was smooth and serene unlike everything else around her. Erik wished he could make everything go away. All their problems and torments so they could spend their days enjoying one another. He knew he would have to take care of Meg first and he wasn't sure if he would be able to do what may need done.

"Christine, I think you should go talk to Madame Giry. She knows something is going on here and I am sure she knows it is Meg. What I don't know is why she hasn't bothered to stop her or tell me that it is Meg. She knows I would never hurt her. We need to know what is going on and I think she will talk to you more than she will me." He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her close. She relaxed some and that was a good sign to him. He didn't want her to worry anymore. Hadn't he caused her enough grief already?

"I will go see her in the morning. I think it is still a few hours before dawn and I could use some sleep. So could you." He paused for a moment and she reached out and took his hand. Erik realized she was leading him to the bed. He wasn't sure he should follow her in there. Every time he touched her, his mind went numb. He felt fire surge through him and he wanted nothing more than to show her how much he loved her and what she meant to him. He had restrained himself. She had lost her husband less than two months ago and it would not be appropriate for him to make advances of that nature. She seemed to sense his hesitancy.

"Erik," she looked back at him. "All I want is some company. Just sleep beside me and make me feel safe. I promise, nothing more." He looked into her deep brown eyes and could see she wanted all the things he did but was restraining herself as well. What a pair they made. Both wanting to be with each other and neither one willing to cross that bridge for propriety demanded they wait. He could see the fire burning within her and wanted to feel the warmth of her touch, her skin. He could wait.

He followed her to the bedchamber and lay beside her. She moved close to him and placed her head in the nape of his neck. He could feel her breath flow over his skin every time she breathed and it was driving him insane with desire. He waited for her breathing to become steady and he moved to the other side of the bed, not trusting in his own restraint and will power.

Erik finally drifted off to sleep.

Part twenty

Christine woke only after a few hours of sleep. She smiled over at Erik, noticing her had moved to the other side of the bed. Did he know how hard it was to lay next to him every night and not give in to the desire he awoke in her? Did her feel the same passionate fire in his soul when he looked at her or touched her? His voice would seep into her very being and she could feel her spirit sore with every breath she took. Her yearnings for him were getting harder to restrain but she would not disgrace Raoul's memory with an act of intimacy before the appropriate time.

She stretched out and gently placed a kiss on Erik's forehead before moving to his desk to find a scrap of parchment. She would not leave without placing a note where he would be able to find it. She found the quill and parchment she had been looking for on the desk beside a vile of black ink. She dipped the quill into the ink and started to write.

_**Eric,**_

_**I am sorry to leave without waking you, yet I feel as though you need the sleep more than I. I have gone to change and clean up before speaking with Madame Giry. My return to you will be as swift as I can make it. Be safe.**_

_**With all my love,**_

_**Christine**_

She lay the note next to him in the place that she had been sleeping. Confident he would find it when he woke, she left for her room. She changed and quickly cleaned up with water in her wash basin beside her armoire. She pulled her hair up into an ornate bun and left for Madame Giry's office.

The walk was pleasant and thankfully without incident. She smiled and talked to the artisans as she walked the halls. She would compliment them on their work and ask a few questions from time to time. The workers had been doing so well it looked as if the grand opening may be moved up. She had planned on a mid march opening but as it turned out less of the opera house had been damaged then they had originally thought. They would be able to have a New Year's Masquerade and if she planned things just right the Phantom could make an appearance without anyone knowing the wiser.

Christine stopped outside Madame Giry's office and tapped on the door. She waited for a response but nothing came. She turned the handle to the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. She had known Madame Giry since she was seven and had never found her office door unlocked. Christine slowly opened the door and was greeted by the faint glow of a single candle. She picked up the candle and lit the lanterns along the walls of the office, looking around her as she went.

The office was a mess. Someone had gone through all the drawers in her desk and strewn papers every where. The floor was littered with audition notes and costume changes. The goblet of ink that usually sat on Madame Giry's desk had been knocked over and a large stain had spread across the rug under her desk. As the lamps lit the room, Christine noticed another pile of papers she hadn't seen earlier. She walked over to them and picked one up. It was address to Mdme. Giry and the return address was from somewhere in Asia. It looked like the stamp said Japan but she couldn't be sure. She didn't recognize the characters on the outside of the envelope but she knew the writing on the letter inside.

It was written in Meg's elaborate style. Christine used to complement Meg on her handwriting. It was so lovely and flowing. She always thought her own resembled a mere attempt at scratching something into the parchment rather than actually writing. They had been required to take lessons in calligraphy as children but she had never done as well as Meg had. Christine placed the letter and envelope inside her dress and left to find Madame Giry.

She headed straight for the rehearsal halls. It was the only place she could think to look for her. They had already accepted a few young students into the ballet and Madame Giry probably had them going through their paces by now. She walked through the main rehearsal room into the smaller ones in the back. As she drew nearer, she heard exactly what she had expected to her, the tiny sounds of slippers on a hardwood floor. She slowly opened the door and saw Madame Giry inside with three young girls and a frail looking little boy. The children were along the bar and she was showing them the starting positions all ballet students learn. Two of the girls were doing exceptionally and the little boy looked right at home on his toes. The smallest of the girls looked to be no older than three and she was having trouble keeping her balance.

Christine shut the door silently and waited patiently to be noticed. She knew better than to interrupt one of Madame Giry's lessons. Within a few minutes, she was and Madame Giry motioned the children to sit and waved Christine over to her. She walked over and stood in front of the class with Madame Giry.

"This, little ones, is Christine Daae de Chagny. She is the owner of the Opera Populaire and is a former student of mine. I hope you will all study and practice as hard as she did. If you do, I am confident that you will all do very well." Madame Giry turned to her and asked if she had wanted anything.

"Yes, actually I have a matter with which I need to discuss with you but if you could give me just a moment. There is something I would like to say to that young girl on the end, the lovely little red haired one with all the freckles." Madame Giry nodded to her and Christine moved over to the small child.

"Hello, my name is Christine. What is your?" She smiled her most charming smile and was greeted with a big toothy grin in return.

"Hello, my name is Anastasia but everyone calls me Annie. It is easier. Will you call me Annie?" The girl was so innocent and sweet, it was a joy just to talk with her.

"If you wish. I was wondering Annie, if you would like some help with your balancing? The other children seem to be ahead of you a bit so I thought I would help you out." She waited Annie to nod and then continued. "How old are you Annie?"

"I will be four in a few days. The other students are four except for Phillip. He is five already." Annie looked over at him and smiled her big grin and he stuck out his tongue at her, to a disapproving look from Madame Giry.

"This is what I would do when I have trouble keeping my balance. Now stand and hold the bar with one hand and place the other hand in the air above you like this." She demonstrated the form she was speaking of. "Great, now think of honey. You like honey right?" Annie nodded readily. "I like it too. So, you think of honey and it is all around you. There are sticky webs of honey everywhere so stand straight and tall where they won't touch you. Now, if you spin here in your safe space within the honey, nothing can get through and if you touch the honey, you will get all sticky. Try spinning now, inside the honey web." Christine stood back and watched Annie do a perfect pirouette.

"I did it!" Annie shouted as she stopped her spin in the position she had been taught.

"I knew you could do it with some imagination and a lot of honey." Christine kissed the girl on the head and went back to Madame Giry. Her face was looking a lot younger this morning. She always loved the ballet lessons with the youngest of the students.

"You are very good at that. Maybe you are trying to replace me already?" The smile on her face let Christine know she was only kidding and she smiled back.

"I do not believe I will take over the ballet, Madame Giry. I am still a student in many ways. I did come here to talk to you though. May we speak outside for a moment?" Christine followed Madame Giry outside and waved farewell to the children. She shut the door but not before watching Annie practice her pirouette again.

"I went to your office looking for you earlier but of course you were not there. The door to your office was unlocked and I believe someone was in there before me. Everything is a mess, Madame Giry. Papers thrown all over the floor and your ink spilt. Do you know who could have done this?" She looked at Madame Giry's face and could tell she knew who it was.

"Yes but there is nothing I can do anymore. The person who is doing this is not the person I once knew. They have changed into a monster and soon I fear, a killer." Christine watched as Madame Giry's eyes started to tear up. What had happened to Meg in the time since she left her mother and Erik?

"Tell me. What has happened to Meg?" She looked down at Madame Giry and waited for her to tell her tale and answer some questions about why Meg was doing this.

"When the Phantom shunned her advancements, Meg was so hurt. She left and it was weeks before I heard from her again. She had traveled to Japan with a former student of the ballet. She said she could not stay here and be near the one she loved and would never have but the consolation was that he would never be happy either. She felt he would always hurt as she was hurting. I think she truly did love him the way he loved you. Tortured souls of unrequited love. She started school there and learned more than dance. She started learning their arts of war and defense. Christine, she has always been so nimble and quick that I fear they have turned her into an assassin. I went to visit her once after six months. She was not Meg anymore. She was this lovely dancer on the outside but inside she was consumed with hate and desperation. I left after only one night there. I could not stand to see what she had become. Then, she heard the news that Raoul was ill and dying. I received a letter the day of his funeral. She does not want either of you to be happy. She will try to kill you to get at him, I fear." She stopped talking long enough to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. "He has changed. I can see it even behind the mask. You have returned to him and he is a better man for it. Although, I think that may be your down fall. Meg is a trained killer now. That is not what all the training was for though. It was to help her handle her anger and move more fluidly but she took what she wanted from the teachings and has returned to the Opera Populaire."

Christine slunk down to the floor. She looked up at Madame Giry and sighed softly.

"I love the man he has become and I love the man he was. I think that you are right and he is not capable of protecting me as he is. He will have to emerge himself back into the world of the Phantom or I may lose him forever. Yet, if he becomes the man I once feared, will I ever get the man I have grown to love back again?" Christine asked Madame Giry and searched her face for any sign of hope. She found nothing of comfort there.

"This person that hunts you is no longer my daughter. My daughter died years ago and this imposter must be dealt with before she kills someone. Christine, do what you must but remember the person wearing the deadliest mask this time is not the child you grew up with. She has become something horrible and I do not think there is any hope for her like there is for you and him. Be careful, I must return to the children. Thank you for helping Annie. She reminds me of you in so many ways. She is an orphan as well." Madame Giry nodded her head slightly and returned to the children.

Christine walked back through the halls to the passageway behind the mirror in her room. How was she going to bring Erik back to the Phantom he had given up. He had changed for her and she had to get that driving and dangerous force back into him again. The look he had in his eyes when he sang to her or when he touched her. The dark seducer he had once been was still there. It lied in wait below the surface and she would have to raise it up if they were ever to be happy together. She stepped through the mirror and into his dark world. The darkness in him was a passion, a yearning and he barely controlled it when he was near her.

She thought about everything she and Madame Giry had spoken of, as she walked down the stone stairway to the deep chamber below her. As she neared the bottom, an idea came to her. She would have to entice the beast inside him with something it yearned for more than anything, beauty. She turned and fled back up the stairs to her room and changed out of her modest gown into a lower cut more form fitting one. He was more the Phantom when he sought her touch. She let her hair fall around her shoulders and smoothed the dark emerald green dress over her hips.

Down once more into the Phantom's lair but this time she went of her own free will. She would bring all his desire to a boil and remind him of what it was they were fighting for. She would not leave until she had the Phantom back in her arms.

Part twenty-one

Erik opened his eyes and rolled over intending to wake Christine. What her found was a hand written note from his angel. _ So, she has gone to see Madame Giry. I hope she can find out what we need to know_. He thought to himself as he stretched and began to clean up. He changed his clothes and wrapped his cape around himself for warmth. The autumn would turn to winter soon and it always stayed warmer down here than outside but some days it seemed very cool.

He walked through the chamber and moved things around. He finished cleaning up from the fire and set to work straightening a candleholder that had fallen and bent in a few places. He warmed his hands over the flames of a lit candelabrum and sat at his desk. He took his quill in hand and started to compose. The written notes slipped from the ink and onto the page in front of him. He was deep into the composition when he felt Christine enter the chamber. He did not need to turn around to sense something different about her. He footsteps were soft but deliberate. She must have gotten some thing out of Madame Giry. Erik placed his quill back into the inkbottle and moved to accompany her into the main chamber.

Erik moved from around the desk and down into view of Christine and his breath caught. She moved though the space between them, gracefully gliding in a low cut deep green dress. Her hair caressed her shoulders as she walked across the chamber towards him. He stood there watching as she moved around the desk and stood before him. He could feel the heat from her body as she reached out and touched his face. He felt his knees weaken and fire flood his soul as he leaned into her soft caress. He looked into her eyes and was caught off guard. The flames within them flaring with desire as she moved her hand along his cheek and back into his hair. He knew he could not hold himself back if she kept up her maddening caresses.

He took a step back but she moved to fill in the space between them. Erik reached up and grabbed her hand. He brought it down to his mouth and kissed her palm.

"Christine, you are driving me mad. Please, don't do this. It is not the right time. I can not keep myself from you." He let go of her hand and she moved to press her body against his.

"I need to feel you. I can feel your heartbeat and I know what it needs. Don't turn me away, Erik. Just love me, show me that you love me." His heart was breaking. He wanted to do what was proper and Raoul had not been gone that long. His body ached for her. He wanted to take her in his arms and carry her to his bed. His blood boiled in his veins and his head was swimming with her scent.

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. He kissed her deeply and with such force he was surprised he didn't hurt her. She returned his kiss with the same passion and he was lost, floating in a dark world of desire. He let her down but did not release the hold he had on her. Erik moved backward and turned Christine around until she was pressed up against the organ. He ran his hands through her hair, feeling her, wanting her. He felt suddenly protective and alert. His mind kept trying to grasp at some small thread of sanity as he sunk deeper into his yearning for his angel.

His body surged with energy and fire as he felt Christine's hands untie his cape and let it fall to the floor behind him. Her hands feeling, searching across his chest. Erik melted in her hands as her touch redoubled his need to have her and keep her with him forever. He suddenly knew he could not live without her. He would never allow anyone to hurt her again and if that meant stopping Meg any way he could, he would do it.

He pulled back from her and tried to speak through ragged breaths.

"Christine, I love you and I want you so desperately I can hardly speak. However, this is not the time. I don't want to share this with you here in this dark dungeon. This cold stone fortress I built to keep everyone out and to keep you in, is not the place for us to be together. Please, say you understand." He was barely containing himself as he waited for her.

Christine looked up at him and smiled. The yearning still there in her eyes but it seemed to be controlled better now. She placed her hands on either side of his face, one resting on skin the other on his mask.

"I understand. I know the song that plays in your mind and my heart sings with you. Say you need me with you here beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too. Love me, that's all I ask of you." Christine leaned into his chest and he held her, never wanting to let go. She felt so right against him that he knew what he would do to keep her here. He had felt this way once before and he had let her go. He would not let her go again. He held her tighter as he thought up a plan to trap the "Opera Populaire Rose".

Part twenty-two

Christine relaxed against Erik's chest. She had seen the look in his eyes. Though he had calmed himself, that burning desire was still radiating in his eyes. The same look she had seen years ago when he had dragged her down into these very catacombs. The Phantom of the Opera was alive and breathing her in. This was the man she had fallen in love with. The man that would do anything to keep her safe and keep them together. Some where inside, she felt guilty. This was a risk, she knew but some things were worth the risk. A life without fear and with her love was worth all the risk.

She looked up into his eyes, searching for the fire within them. There, beneath the surface where she had only seen love before she could see desire and strength. He needed her and she could see how deeply his yearnings went. She felt the same. It had been almost impossible to let him stop. She had gone too far and if he hadn't held on to the slim string of sanity that he had, she never would have stopped him.

"Erik, perhaps I should go change. Everyone will be leaving in a few hours. I thought I would arrange dinner for us. We could have dinner together and no one will be around to bother us." She watched as his face shifted with his thoughts. As he started to speak, she saw a spark in his eyes and thought that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He was planning something and she worried it may not be pleasant.

"Yes, you can go arrange dinner. I think that would be a splendid idea. You go and change into something lovely and I will change for dinner. Where should I meet you?" Erik glanced around the chamber. He was asking her a question but it seemed his mind was on something else entirely.

"I will meet you at the grand staircase in the reception area. It is finished and is part of the main opera house and is off limits to the ballet students. Of course, they will all be in the dormitories at the back of the building. I'll meet you there in two hours." She stepped up and gave him a kiss on the cheek before turning and heading to her room.

On the way to her room she thought about the way he had said things and the way he was acting. She had definitely got her Phantom back. He was such a strong presence he over shadowed Erik and this may turn into a problem. A problem that she would have to deal with after the "Rose" problem was finished. Right now though, he needed his darker side as much as she did if he was going to protect them both.

He had given her permission to go. That was different. He was being possessive and she remembered how deadly that had become. _It has to be this way. He was stronger and quicker when he thought this way. It is the only way, I hope. _She thought about what she had let out of his dark hidden heart and hoped she had done the right thing.

She entered her room through the mirror and started to change. She had a splendid white dress that she felt would be perfect. Without realizing it when she bought it, the dress looked a very similar to the one the Phantom had her change into that night so long ago. The night she chose to leave Raoul and stay with the Phantom.

Stepping into the white satin slippers she bought with the dress, she moved over to her mirror. She found a small box containing tiny diamond flowers she had worn in her hair during her first performance with the Opera Populaire. She spread them throughout her hair and settled on a thin necklace to compliment the glittering flowers. She had finished arranging her clothes and set off to the kitchens. The head cook had made her dinner every night since being hired and tonight was no different. Christine entered the kitchen and found the cook, Madame Beaulia finishing a grand meal for two. She smiled at Christine when she entered her domain.

"Madame, you look lovely. I can see why you had me cook for two. It is about time if you ask me Madame. Monsieur Chagny would not like you moping around now that he is gone. Most young ladies would not wait as long as you have. He would want you to be happy. Trust me, I have worked for his family since he was a mere child. I will get the wine and leave you be." She patted Christine on the shoulder as she walked by on her way to the wine cellar.

Christine had always like Madame Beaulia. She had been so welcoming and friendly when Raoul had brought her to his ancestral home after their whirlwind marriage. His mother and father had also been very kind and spoke so kindly of her father. She missed them as much as she missed Raoul. They did not take their sons death well and wanted to get away from the home. It had only been a few days since Raoul's funeral when the boat they had been on sank from unknown reasons. The Navy investigated the incident and declared pirates to be behind the ordeal. Christine inherited a great deal of money and even more heartache.

She shook the memory away as she heard Madame Beaulia return with the wine. She walked over to her and looked at the bottle she had chosen for the meal. It was a splendid aromatic red that she liked and had enjoyed often with Raoul as they had watched the sunset over different towns and cities.

Christine smiled and nodded her approval while Madame Beaulia finished getting the porcelain dishes arranged in a neat stack.

"Every one is out of the opera house, Madame. I had the table set up as you requested and just between us, the location is wonderful. The air is crisp but not cold yet so everything will be hot when you get there. I will see to the food myself. I thought roasted duck with orange sauce would be a wonderful main dish. It is such a romantic meal. I hope you like the desert. I made it special for you. I will have all the food set-aside on the tables and you can serve your gentleman caller. I will make sure you are not disturbed." She smiled again and after Christine had thanked her into embarrassment, she started taking th food to the agreed upon dinner site.

Christine looked to the huge Grandfather clock at the far end of the kitchen and headed towards the grand staircase. She would need to hurry if she was going to meet Erik there. She carefully dashed  
through the halls and slowed in time to fix her dress and hair before nearing the bottom of the staircase. She stood there for ten minutes before she sensed someone behind her. Christine spun around and looked to the top of the grand staircase. There in the shadows stood a tall dark figure.

Erik stepped into the light and Christine let out a sigh of relief. Then she got a good look at the man at the top of the stairs and she thought she was going to stop breathing. He stood there, looking down at her as she slowly moved up the staircase to join him. He was wearing a black gentleman's suit that had tails to his knees. He wore all black with one exception. The ruffle under his coat was embroidered with deep blood red roses. He wore his half mask and in his left hand carried a cane with a silver skull resting on the top.

She stopped a few feet from him and tried to slow her heart. It was racing and she felt her breathing quicken.

"You look very handsome. I didn't recognize you at first but you look splendid." She went over to him and kissed his cheek.

"You, my sweet Christine look more like an angel than I have ever seen you. The lightness suits you so well. That, and I love it when you sparkle." Erik ran a hand over one of the diamond flowers in her hair.

"So, kind sir, if you would follow me. I believe our dinner is waiting." She smiled slyly at him and walked towards a dark hidden hall. She led him through the back stage area to a tall spiral staircase. At the top of the stairs, she opened a door and led him out onto the roof. She grasped his hand and pulled him to the table she had arranged for them.

"I was rather confident no one would disturb us here. That, and Madame Beaulia has promised to stand guard at the bottom of the staircase and keep anyone else away." Christine sat at the table and watched Erik sit on the other side. He seemed on edge as if he was anticipating something. He noticed her stare and tried to smile at her and the dinner but she could tell it was forced.

"I am sorry Christine. I do not have pleasant memories of this place." He looked at his empty plate.

"I know. That is why I chose this place. I will not have the ghosts of so long ago haunt us anymore. We will have memories of this place and they will be _our_ memories." He looked up from the empty plate and Christine noticed he was looking past her and to the door at her back. It was then that she sensed another presence on the roof with them. A hateful evil presence and she suddenly thought her food was going to get cold.

Part twenty-three

Erik forgot all about the memory he had been reliving. The heart wrenching vision of Christine and Raoul on this rooftop long ago in a deep embrace. The presence standing behind Christine now had all his attention. He smiled to himself, the culmination of his plan seemed to have worked just as he had expected.

While Christine had been arranging dinner, Erik had gone to talk with Madame Giry. She had let him know that she worried for them both and that Meg was just a lost soul. She needed something to bring her back the way Christine's love and sacrifice had released him from his cursed existence. The entire time they talked, he had noticed that Madame Giry kept looking towards the secret door he used to get into the room. Meg was there and he knew it. This had been the time to lay the trap. He remembered talking with Madame Giry about the dinner.

_"Madame Giry, I hope that you are wrong about Meg. She was a very good friend to both Christine and I. However, we can not dwell on the past. Christine has arranged a wonderful dinner this evening for the two of us. She is trying very hard to chase away the demons of the past for both our sakes. She has gone through great lengths to keep people away from the opera house until the grand opening and with the opening being moved to New Year's, it is getting very close. I only hope all goes well." He studied her face as he talked to her about the dinner. He watched her as she went slightly white when he mentioned the demons of the past and knew that Meg must be listening, as he had hoped._

_He walked over to Madame Giry and rested a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him shocked. He had never shown a sign of affection as he did now, with her before._

_"Madame Giry, you have risked so much for me. I will do what I can but be warned, I will not let anyone hurt Christine. I do not care what it takes to keep her safe anymore. She is mine and no one will take her from me again." He squeezed her shoulder again and turned to leave. "I just wanted you to know."_

So, it seemed that Meg had been listening as he had thought and her she was, staring at him with her clear hateful blue eyes. She stood directly in front of the door to the stairwell. She had grown a few inches since he had seen her last at the performance of his opera, Don Juan; Triumphant. She stood as tall as Christine and only a few inches shorter than he himself did. She stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Her blond hair pulled up into a tight bun and her face twisted in a grimace of disdain. She wore a loose white shirt and tight fitting riding pants and black leather boots made for fencing. She had come ready to fight and he was going to give her one.

Erik rose from the table and motioned Christine to get behind him. To his relief, she never said a word, merely dashed over behind him and clasped her hands together. He could see the fear in her eyes and on her face. His anger surged through him giving him strength and fueling the fire in his soul. Quickly reaching behind him and under his cape, he pulled out his sword. The silver engraved skull head surrounded his hand as he mentally prepared to spar with his young adversary.

"You should have heeded my warning, Meg. Leave, this is the only chance you will get." Erik spoke to her as she slowly inched her way closer to them. It appeared as if she had no intention of listening.

"You are the one that should have listened, Phantom. I warned you to leave but once more, you did not take me seriously. Now, you will pay for your betrayal with her life." She had drawn a katana out from behind her and pointed it at Christine. Erik heard Christine draw in a sharp breath and his anger turned into barely contained fury.

"Leave Christine alone. She had nothing to do with this. I am the one that refused you Meg, not her. I ignored your advances and I broke your heart. Why make her pay for the sins which are mine?" He shifted Christine behind a nearby statue of a winged angel overlooking the city below them.

"You love her, that is why she must pay." Meg stepped another few feet closer and Erik moved in between her and Christine leveling his sword at her as she advanced. "If she dies then who will you have? No one but me and then you can turn to me. I trusted you with my heart and you didn't even notice. How could you not notice? I came to you everyday and sat with you. I brought you the things you most wanted and needed and yet you still turned me away as a mere child. I am no child and you," she pointed her sword at Christine again, "are no angel."

Meg had moved closer to him and he could see not only the hate in her eyes but also a small thread of fear. He may be able to use this thread to weave a blanket and trap her in it before she could hurt anyone.

He threw his cape back off his shoulders and lunged himself at her. His sword was easily deflected by hers and she parried quickly. He managed to dodge her swift stroke and swing his sword around. As he turned around he swirled his cape and Meg lost her balance slightly. The difference was enough for his sword to give her a swift smack on her bottom with the flat part of his blade.

Meg turned around, furious he had hit her and that he was playing with her. Erik knew that an angry fighter was a poor fighter. He raised his sword in a mock salute and waited for her to start at him again.

"You arrogant fool. You have no idea what you are dealing with. I have trained for two years to be an efficient assassin and you will soon see how efficient I can be!" Meg screamed at him as she launched herself across the space that separated them.

Erik watched her move with feminine grace and cat like swiftness as she closed the distance between them. He waited. Suddenly, Meg switched her charge and Erik barely realized what she was doing in time to stop it. She had turned at the last instant, spinning around him and aiming her deadly blade at Christine. Erik heard Christine cry out as she leapt onto the statues back and into its wings. Meg's katana sent sparks out as she connected with the cold stone surface. Erik flung his cape out and caught Meg around the neck and he pulled back on the material, sending her sliding across the rooftop. Her hand shot out but not in time to catch her glinting katana as it slipped away from her.

Erik turned to Christine and ran over to her. He stepped up onto the angel's back and reached out to help Christine down.

"Christine, are you alright?" He pulled her down to him and wrapped his arms around her.

"I am fine, thanks to you. She is crazy Erik. I don't even know who she is anymore." Christine looked up at him as he stepped back.

He could see the loss and the hopelessness she was feeling. Her eyes were flooded with fear and desperation and the sight cut through him like nothing else ever had. The fury that had been boiling inside him exploded and he lost control of his tightly reigned temper. Christine must have seen it for she backed away and he turned to confront the person who had nearly killed his sweet angel.

"This ends now, child." He said in a dead cold voice as he stalked over to Meg who was struggling to get to her feet after the trip across the hard rooftop.

Part twenty-four

Christine watched in horror as Erik's eyes flashed an explosion of hate and anger. She stood deathly still as he turned and advanced on Meg as she struggled to regain her footing. It appeared that she had sprained her ankle when Erik had caught her in his cape. She had just gotten to her feet and stood up when Erik had reached her. She watched the scene unfold in front of her as she struggled to contain her fear and disbelief.

Erik leveled his sword at Meg's chest. Meg looked up at him and somewhere behind the hate and anger Christine could see the love she had spoke of earlier. Christine's heart went out to her. She knew the pain of loving someone you thought you could never have and Erik knew it too. It was a pain that could blind anyone to the truth.

"I warned you child to stay away from us. Why did you not listen? I gave you time and a chance to leave but instead you endanger Christine's life and your own. I will show no mercy to those that threaten my angel." Christine could hear the anger in his voice as he tried to keep his voice steady and his sword where it was.

"You and your precious angel. That is all you have ever cared about, isn't it? Well, she should be with Raoul not here with you. You were mine. She had left you behind and left with her sweet Viscount. She is the one that left you in the catacombs alone and with nothing. I came to you. I loved you, not Christine. Why can't you see that?" The hurt and anger in Meg's voice was evident but she was still dangerous. The wild look hadn't left her eyes and Christine could see Erik relaxing slightly.

"Meg, I let Christine go. She chose me and I let her go as I would have if it had been you. The life I have led is no life for either of you. Raoul is dead and she returned to the opera house and to me. I owe her my life for what she has done for me. She has saved me from my solitude and I love her, Meg. I always have." Erik lowered the sword even more. His back was turned slightly and Christine could see that he was letting his guard down. He may have started to calm down but she could tell from the fire still burning in Meg's eyes she did not intend to concede just yet.

Christine watched as Erik lowered his sword to his sides and Meg's eyes lit up briefly. The next few moments passed quickly and Christine didn't know if she had seen what she had thought. The instant Erik lowered his sword there was a glint of silver from Megs left hand and Erik staggered back. She gasped as she realized what Meg had done.

Christine ran over to Erik as he slipped to the floor, his hand still at his chest and the other still holding his sword. She slid to the rooftop beside him and placed her hand behind his head.

"Erik, oh no, Erik look at me. Please, don't leave me." Her voice broke as a torrent of tears fell from her eyes. She looked down at him and he opened his eyes. He reached up and placed his hand on her face softly.

"Say you need me with you here beside you. You led me, saved me from my solitude. For this Christine, I love you and thank you." He coughed and grimaced from the pain of the stab wound in his chest. He tried to smile at her but she could tell the pain was unbearable. He looked over behind her and something changed in his eyes. The pain was suddenly replaced with fear and alertness. Christine felt Erik shove her aside and looked in time to see him raise his Sword arm with the skull engraved sword and block a dagger thrust from Meg.

Meg had crept up behind her as she had spoke to Erik. He pushed himself up with his blood-covered hand and pushed Meg back with all his strength. Christine was amazed that after all the bleeding he had been doing he still had the strength to fight. He moved to his feet and pushed Meg back towards the rooftop door. She parried him with her small intricately carved dagger she had used to stab Erik with.

Somehow, Meg was keeping Erik at bay. Christine watched and saw that Erik was playing with her but not as he had done before. Now it was more like a cat toying with a mouse before they killed it. She could see Erik would swing his sword out and catch her on the arm. The he would strike the other. Meg had gotten numerous bloody slashes on her arms and legs by the time Erik was wearing out form the loss of blood. Christine knew from the training she had received in caring for Raoul, that the bleeding needed stopped soon.

Meg was tired and breathing heavily by the time Erik had pinned her to the door. He pressed his sword into her shirt over her heart and a small red colored spot spread over the white material. Christine saw Meg's face go white as Erik stood there with the tip of his sword digging into the flesh under her shirt. He was near fainting and yet held on to torture Meg.

Christine dashed over to them and placed her hand over the wound on Erik's chest. She pressed her hand hard and felt Erik weaken from the pain.

"Erik, love don't do this. There is no reason to kill her. I have you know and if I don't get you to the cook, I may lose you. Please, my great tutor, don't leave me alone here with no one." She looked at his face and he was still staring at Meg.

"Meg, this is your point of no return. You have a choice to make. Either we both die or I let you leave with the few scratches I have given you. I am a better swordsman and I do not love you. If something were to happen to Christine I would die and then you would lose not only me but also the one friend that was more of a sister to you. Can you hurt her this way? Can you cause her the pain you now know? If I die so will you and we will have condemned her to a life of loneliness and solitude. This is your choice." Erik pressed his sword into her chest a fraction more and a tear slid down Meg's face.

Christine could feel the warmth slowly leaving his chest as she pressed her hand over the bleeding gash beneath his vest and shirt. She looked over at Meg and tried to read her face. She was in pain and that was hiding most everything else there. Then as Meg looked over at her the hate that had been there earlier flared again. Christine sighed, as she knew that Meg wasn't going to give up her hopeless love for Erik. Christine looked away from her and concentrated on Erik. He was turning pale and his hand started to quiver slightly.

Christine was standing there looking at the floor not wanting to see their faces anymore. Erik had a look of determination and she knew he would kill Meg rather than let her harm either of them. Meg on the other hand, now wanted them both dead and Christine was worried she may have her wish if Erik didn't end this all very soon.

She leaned into Erik's bleeding cut and felt him push his arm out. Christine buried her face into Erik's shoulder as she heard Meg slump to the floor and the dagger clatter on the rooftop as it slipped from her hand.


	3. Chapter 3

Part twenty-four

Christine watched in horror as Erik's eyes flashed an explosion of hate and anger. She stood deathly still as he turned and advanced on Meg as she struggled to regain her footing. It appeared that she had sprained her ankle when Erik had caught her in his cape. She had just gotten to her feet and stood up when Erik had reached her. She watched the scene unfold in front of her as she struggled to contain her fear and disbelief.

Erik leveled his sword at Meg's chest. Meg looked up at him and somewhere behind the hate and anger Christine could see the love she had spoke of earlier. Christine's heart went out to her. She knew the pain of loving someone you thought you could never have and Erik knew it too. It was a pain that could blind anyone to the truth.

"I warned you child to stay away from us. Why did you not listen? I gave you time and a chance to leave but instead you endanger Christine's life and your own. I will show no mercy to those that threaten my angel." Christine could hear the anger in his voice as he tried to keep his voice steady and his sword where it was.

"You and your precious angel. That is all you have ever cared about, isn't it? Well, she should be with Raoul not here with you. You were mine. She had left you behind and left with her sweet Viscount. She is the one that left you in the catacombs alone and with nothing. I came to you. I loved you, not Christine. Why can't you see that?" The hurt and anger in Meg's voice was evident but she was still dangerous. The wild look hadn't left her eyes and Christine could see Erik relaxing slightly.

"Meg, I let Christine go. She chose me and I let her go as I would have if it had been you. The life I have led is no life for either of you. Raoul is dead and she returned to the opera house and to me. I owe her my life for what she has done for me. She has saved me from my solitude and I love her, Meg. I always have." Erik lowered the sword even more. His back was turned slightly and Christine could see that he was letting his guard down. He may have started to calm down but she could tell from the fire still burning in Meg's eyes she did not intend to concede just yet.

Christine watched as Erik lowered his sword to his sides and Meg's eyes lit up briefly. The next few moments passed quickly and Christine didn't know if she had seen what she had thought. The instant Erik lowered his sword there was a glint of silver from Megs left hand and Erik staggered back. She gasped as she realized what Meg had done.

Christine ran over to Erik as he slipped to the floor, his hand still at his chest and the other still holding his sword. She slid to the rooftop beside him and placed her hand behind his head.

"Erik, oh no, Erik look at me. Please, don't leave me." Her voice broke as a torrent of tears fell from her eyes. She looked down at him and he opened his eyes. He reached up and placed his hand on her face softly.

"Say you need me with you here beside you. You led me, saved me from my solitude. For this Christine, I love you and thank you." He coughed and grimaced from the pain of the stab wound in his chest. He tried to smile at her but she could tell the pain was unbearable. He looked over behind her and something changed in his eyes. The pain was suddenly replaced with fear and alertness. Christine felt Erik shove her aside and looked in time to see him raise his Sword arm with the skull engraved sword and block a dagger thrust from Meg.

Meg had crept up behind her as she had spoke to Erik. He pushed himself up with his blood-covered hand and pushed Meg back with all his strength. Christine was amazed that after all the bleeding he had been doing he still had the strength to fight. He moved to his feet and pushed Meg back towards the rooftop door. She parried him with her small intricately carved dagger she had used to stab Erik with.

Somehow, Meg was keeping Erik at bay. Christine watched and saw that Erik was playing with her but not as he had done before. Now it was more like a cat toying with a mouse before they killed it. She could see Erik would swing his sword out and catch her on the arm. The he would strike the other. Meg had gotten numerous bloody slashes on her arms and legs by the time Erik was wearing out form the loss of blood. Christine knew from the training she had received in caring for Raoul, that the bleeding needed stopped soon.

Meg was tired and breathing heavily by the time Erik had pinned her to the door. He pressed his sword into her shirt over her heart and a small red colored spot spread over the white material. Christine saw Meg's face go white as Erik stood there with the tip of his sword digging into the flesh under her shirt. He was near fainting and yet held on to torture Meg.

Christine dashed over to them and placed her hand over the wound on Erik's chest. She pressed her hand hard and felt Erik weaken from the pain.

"Erik, love don't do this. There is no reason to kill her. I have you know and if I don't get you to the cook, I may lose you. Please, my great tutor, don't leave me alone here with no one." She looked at his face and he was still staring at Meg.

"Meg, this is your point of no return. You have a choice to make. Either we both die or I let you leave with the few scratches I have given you. I am a better swordsman and I do not love you. If something were to happen to Christine I would die and then you would lose not only me but also the one friend that was more of a sister to you. Can you hurt her this way? Can you cause her the pain you now know? If I die so will you and we will have condemned her to a life of loneliness and solitude. This is your choice." Erik pressed his sword into her chest a fraction more and a tear slid down Meg's face.

Christine could feel the warmth slowly leaving his chest as she pressed her hand over the bleeding gash beneath his vest and shirt. She looked over at Meg and tried to read her face. She was in pain and that was hiding most everything else there. Then as Meg looked over at her the hate that had been there earlier flared again. Christine sighed, as she knew that Meg wasn't going to give up her hopeless love for Erik. Christine looked away from her and concentrated on Erik. He was turning pale and his hand started to quiver slightly.

Christine was standing there looking at the floor not wanting to see their faces anymore. Erik had a look of determination and she knew he would kill Meg rather than let her harm either of them. Meg on the other hand, now wanted them both dead and Christine was worried she may have her wish if Erik didn't end this all very soon.

She leaned into Erik's bleeding cut and felt him push his arm out. Christine buried her face into Erik's shoulder as she heard Meg slump to the floor and the dagger clatter on the rooftop as it slipped from her hand.

Part twenty-five

Erik dropped his sword and wrapped his arm around Christine as she leaned into him. He was so tired and pain ravaged his senses. He could feel his head swimming and darkness was starting to encompass him as he tried to remain awake. He shook his head to clear his thoughts for the moment.

"Christine, you have to go get that cook of yours. I don't think I can stand much longer." He tried to look at her but her face was still buried in his bloodied shirt. He could tell for the first time that she was sobbing softly as her shoulders shook gently.

"I didn't want her to die, Erik. She was my friend and a sister for so many years. I don't blame you but I wish there had been another way." Christine started to cry harder and Erik lifted her chin with his good arm.

"Angel, I didn't kill her. I hit her with the dull side of my sword and knocked her unconscious but she lives. I was so furious and I wanted to but I could not do that to you. I could not do that to her either. She feels for me the way I have always felt for you and that is a pain I know all too well. Now, go get that cook and round up a constable to take care of our young friend here. Please hurry, Christine." He felt the dark closing in on him again. He waited for Christine to run out the door and then he leaned up against one of the many angel statues mounted atop the opera house rooftop. He relaxed against it and slid to the floor unable to hold himself up any further.

As he sat there, he kept his eyes on Meg. She should be unconscious for hours but one could never be to safe. She was breathing and her wounds were minor compared to his. He could feel his hands and feet growing cold and he was having trouble focusing on the sounds around him. He heard the door open and saw a stout short women step onto the roof and look around for him. Once she saw him, she ran over and knelt beside him and ripped his shirt open. She seemed so familiar but he could not place it.

"I am Madame Beaulia and Madame Chagny has asked me to mend you. Do not worry I know who you are and do not intend to tell anyone. Madame Chagny cares for you deeply, I can see it in her face when she told me about you. Can you still speak, Monsieur?" She smiled at him as she reached into the folds of her skirt and pulled out a needle and thick clear threaded sinew.

"Yes, Madame. I can still speak although I am unsure as to how long I will be able to. I am rather tired. Madame Beaulia, do I know you? Have we met before?" He was sure he knew her but it seemed so long ago. Almost as if it were a dream were trying to float out of his memory.

"Monsieur, I do not believe now is the time to discuss this. You will have to hold still. I need to get this wound closed before the constable and his men arrive for the young lady over there." She nodded towards Meg still lying unconscious on the stone roof.

"Please Madame, I have known so few people in my life that when I recognize someone it is most often important. I do know you though I can not say how or why." He coughed and grimaced as Madame Beaulia started to sew up his dagger-inflicted wound. She kept at the work until she had finished and bent over to bite the sinew and tie the end. She reached out for his hand and helped him stand.

"Here rest your weight on me. We need to get you out of here before the police arrive and knowing the Madame, they will be here shortly. Follow me, I will get you somewhere safe." He was too tired and weak to argue. He let the sturdy women lead him down the staircase and through the halls to the very back of the opera house. She turned to face the wall and pushed a candleholder roughly. As she pushed, a section of the wall opened like a giant door and she helped him inside.

He looked around the small room and realized it was a pantry, a very large one at that. There were a great many spices from all over the world and large tomes containing what he could only assume were recipes. This lady was after all the head cook for the Opera Populaire.

"Where are we?" He looked at her as she helped him lean against the wall beneath the numerous shelves.

"This is my private pantry. Madame Chagny had it built for me. I worked for the Chagny family for many years, Monsieur and in the travels have collected many recipes and spices from around the world. After the Viscount de Chagny's parents died Christine asked me to come here and I accepted. However, I had other reasons for coming to this dark place than to cook. I came to see how you had fared. I know you are wondering who I am and how I know you and how do I know you are here, are you not?" She looked over at him and Erik was fighting the darkness around him. All he could manage was a simple nod.

"I promise Monsieur, that I will tell you. For now though, you need rest and sleep. I will go make something to help to heal and I will inform Madame Chagny that you are here and well. Now, sleep and think no more on these things. We will speak again when you are better." She stood up and headed for the door.

"Thank-you, Madame Beaulia for everything. I owe you a great deal." Erik watched as she turned and smiled at him.

"No Monsieur, you have become a very kind man and that is all I could have hoped for. Now sleep." Erik let the dark take him as he heard the door to the secret pantry close behind Madame Beaulia. Before all the light slipped away, his mind searched for something. A thought or dream, maybe even a memory of a thinner and younger Beaulia. He could almost recall why he knew her but then it slipped away with everything else and he slept.

Part twenty-six

Christine ran out into the street after she had made sure Madame Beaulia had understood her instructions. She searched the street for any sign of an officer or person in general. The streets were near the opera house were empty and she ran to the back of the building to the stables. Here she kept her horse, Aria in case of emergencies. She quickly saddled the roan horse and together they shot out into the night. Christine had been thinking of a story to tell the police about Meg. The truth would not work and she knew it had to be convincing for Meg may decide to tell her version of the tale.

Christine slowed Aria and tied her to a carriage post beside the station. She quickly messed up her hair and dashed into the building. Inside there were two uniformed officers and they looked up from their card game as she stormed into the room.

"Monsieurs, I beg of you for your assistance. I have just had a most distressing encounter with a deranged young woman. Please, Monsieurs follow me." She dramatically stumbled and fell into the younger of the two, a tall handsome blond haired man.

The younger man caught her and helped her to a nearby seat.

"Please, Madame tell us what happened. Please start with your name and where you came from." He went to his desk and poured her a shot of brandy. "Here this will calm your nerves."

Christine drank the shot of brandy and looked desperately at the two men before her. They were intent on her story and this is exactly what she had hoped for. It seems she had learned to do more than sing while at the Opera Populaire.

"My name is Christine Daae de Chagny and I am the current owner of the opera house The Opera Populaire. My husband purchased the building and ballet school shortly before his passing. This is all beside the point, Monsieurs. I had arranged a private dinner for myself and a friend on the rooftop of the opera house and was preparing to arrange the plates when a mad woman steeped out of the shadows. I thought she might have been familiar yet she said not a word. She stalked towards me brandishing what looked like a sword. She was my height with blond hair and I never had the chance to see her eyes. She came at me with this sword thing and as I ran towards a statue located on the rooftop another stranger jumped out at the mad woman. They fought for a long time yelling at each other in a language I did not understand. She stabbed him with a small dagger of some kind and he hit her on the head with his sword. She passed out and he came over to see if I was all right. I told him I was fine and thanked him. He said this girl was in the ballet before the fire and was upset that I was upset with me for renovating it and he had been sent to stop her from hurting me. I am sorry Monsieurs, but then he left and told me to come here and get you. He said the constables would arrest her and question her. They would see that she is quite mad. I saddled my horse and rode as fast as I could." She forced herself to cry as she finished her story.

"Madame, we will follow you at once. I knew your late husband and I give my sincerest sympathies over his untimely death. He was a very good man. Did your friend ever arrive for dinner?" The older man had put his hand on her shoulder for comfort.

"No, he never did. He more than likely sent a rider to me that I missed in my hurry to get here." She wiped her tears and stood to leave. "Please hurry, I fear she will wake and then we will never find her."

The two police officers lifted themselves onto their mounts and followed Christine as she raced through the streets to the opera house. She led them up the stairs and to the rooftop where to her great relief, Meg was unconscious. The two officers examined her and collaborated that she had been hit by what appeared to be a blunt object and could easily have been a sword. The two gentlemen bound her wrists and lifted her up. With all the movement, Meg regained her senses and looked around herself to get her bearings. Suddenly the anger of before flashed in her eyes. Christine had to keep up the act so she stepped back quickly and gasped.

The officers grabbed Meg more tightly and pulled her away from Christine.

"Come with us Madame. We need to have a few words with you." They started to pull her towards the door when she looked at Christine.

"Where is he? Where is the Phantom? He was here and I killed him…where is he you tramp!" She screamed at her and Christine couldn't have hoped for a better show.

"There officers, I told you she was mad." Christine backed away further and watched the constable and the young officer drag her from the building. After they had rode off, Christine ran to find Madame Beaulia and learn of Erik's fate.

Part twenty-seven

Erik woke at the sound of the hidden pantry door being opened. He tried to sit up but pain spread out from his wound and he leaned back against the wall. There wasn't any light inside the pantry but he tried to see into the darkness. There before him was a silhouette of a women, a woman that he recognized.

"Christine," he spoke softly into the darkness. "Christine, is that you my angel?" He waited as the vision moved closer and knelt beside him.

"Yes, Erik. How are you feeling? I was so worried about you." He reached up and touched her face.

"Sore and still very weak. What time is it? I feel as though I have been in here for days." He felt her face tighten under his caress. "What is it Christine?"

"You have been sleeping for almost three days. Madame Beaulia would not let me in to see you. She said I would wake you if I even walked near the entrance. I have had a lot to do so it has been a very small blessing. I have missed you." She reached his hand and kissed it softly. "Madame Beaulia says that your fever is gone and there is no infection. You will be as good as you ever were and you can leave as soon as you feel up to it."

"Then we can leave now. I want to leave here and spend time with you before the opera house opens. What ever happened to Meg?" He had just remembered the incident on the roof and was very interested in how that had been dealt with.

"I went to the constable and told him a mad woman had attacked me. All I really had to do was mention who I was and who my husband had been and they took care of the rest. As far as I know she is still in jail." He listened to her as she gave him the full story of what had happened over the past few days. She had to go to the constable's office and assure them that her friend was fine and nothing ill had befallen him. She told them she had not seen the mysterious stranger again and they took her at her word. She had spoken to Madame Giry and explained what had happened. Christine said that Madame Giry knew something would happen and wanted to thank him for not killing her daughter. Madame Giry had gone to the constables office and signed some papers to have Meg committed to a well-known asylum for a number of years. The artisans had finished the restoration work and all that was left was to fix the gas lines that had burst in the fire. That and the training of the students and rehearsal for the first opera had been taking a lot of her time.

"It seems as if you have everything well in hand. I am very proud of you. You have become more of a woman than I have imagined possible. You are still the sweet angel I have always known but so much more." He smiled at her and started to push himself up. It hurt more than he expected but he wanted to leave the small pantry bad enough that he didn't care anymore. Christine offered him her arm and opened the door. Together they left the dark of the pantry for the dimly lit openness of the hallway.

He followed Christine out into the main part of the opera house and she led him to the top of the staircase. They walked slowly to her room and he noticed that many her things were missing. He was too tired after the long walk to the entrance of his grotto to bother asking about it. He made a mental note to ask about it later. He let Christine help him to his bed and he sat down with his back up against the headboard. Christine moved over to sit by him and gently sat on the bed.

"You should sleep. I know the walk down here has taken a lot out of you. Is there anything you need, Love?" He felt the warmth of her touch as she rested her hand on his own. She was going to take care of him and he wasn't sure how to react. No one had ever cared for him before and the feeling was different.

"Yes, come to think of it, I do. Tell me all you know about Madame Beaulia. How long have you known her and where did she come from. Christine, she seems so familiar to me. Like a distant memory hiding in the back of my mind. She told me she knew me and that she was proud of me. I want to know everything you know before I confront her again." He watched her face shift from one emotion to the next. She was thinking, debating what to tell him. It was obvious she knew something that she did not wish to tell him. "Please, Christine this is very important to me."

"Alright Erik, I will tell you all that I know." Christine seemed to take a deep breath before she started her tale and he wondered what he was about to learn about this mysterious cook.

Part twenty-eight

Christine wasn't sure what he wanted to hear. She could tell from the tone in his voice and the look on his face that he thought she knew something. She thought over everything in an instant as she wondered what he would think after he knew about Madame Beaulia. She had no choice. He had to know all that she knew about the extraordinary servant.

"Erik, I have known Madame Beaulia since I was a child. When the Chagny's and my father knew each other Raoul and I used to play together and Madame Beaulia worked for his family. She was a cook and a handmaid and a schoolmistress. Raoul and I used to talk about her as if she were a witch, she could do things that we could never explain. She _knew_ things before they happened and once when we were little Raoul and I were playing around in an outcropping of trees. Raoul had convinced me to climb up with him although my father had told me repeatedly that it was not proper for a young lady to climb trees. I had nearly reached the top when I lost my footing. Raoul reached for me but I tumbled out of the tree and landed in the arms of Madame Beaulia. She said she had gone for a walk and overheard us arguing and decided to check on us. I think she knew I was going to fall and Raoul and I were always very careful around her." She paused for a moment to look at Erik to find him listening intently to her every word.

"When were older, we crept into her room while she was out at the market. There in her room we found wondrous things we had never seen before. She had a deck of playing cards that had these ornate pictures on them and candles everywhere. She had many bottles of strange smelling herbs and oils. In a box under her bed, we found hundreds of chains and necklaces. Most were copper but a few were silver and gold with tiny bells and charms dangling from them. She had many strange rings and figurines strewn over the top of her armoire and night stands. Neither of us had any idea what any of this was but we decided not to touch anything and left. We never told anyone what we had done and seen." She shifted on the bed. She hadn't talked about the events of her past since Raoul had gotten sick and these were long buried memories.

"She was a gypsy, Christine. My mother was and so was the…well it doesn't matter anymore. Please, go on." She watched as his face betrayed the emotion his voice was hiding. He was remembering his past as well and it hurt him as much as hers hurt her.

"Then my father died and I came to live her and study with the ballet. I met you and then the fire. After I married Raoul he took me to live at his ancestral home and she was still there. She remembered me and seemed surprised to see me with Raoul. She would ask subtlety about any other gentleman friends I may have had while at the opera house. I didn't want to upset Raoul so I told her that I had not known any other men before Raoul. I could tell she did not believe me and I think the strange looks directed at Raoul and I might have been one of the reasons we left so soon to travel. As we were preparing to go his parents suggested we take her along for they were leaving on an extended cruise and she did not enjoy the long boat rides. Reluctantly we agreed and together the three of us left for parts unknown. She would travel to small villages and learn new recipes and strange new herbs as the two of us went on safaris and had meetings with foreign dignitaries. She would set up dinner for us on the nights we were home and made the most spectacular breakfasts. Things were so great. Raoul was so happy and I…well I was as happy as I could be while worrying about you and trying to keep Raoul from knowing I was worrying about you. He never let on but I think he always knew how I felt." Speaking of Raoul had brought tears to her eyes and she wasn't sure why. They had been happy and she knew that she had loved him. She had never thought about the wonderful time they had had together before he had gotten sick. She turned her face so Erik wouldn't see the stray tear trickle down her cheek.

Erik reached over and turned her chin back to him.

"Christine, it is perfectly understandable to miss him. I know that you loved him and he made you very happy. Please, don't hide your feelings from me. I am no longer upset at him. He took you out of this hell that I pulled you into and made you smile and sing in the sunlight. I am thankful to him for that." Erik leaned back against the headboard again and breathed heavily. She could tell his wound still hurt him when he moved.

"Thank you, I do miss him but I am happier than I have ever been here with you. I want you to know that."" She waited for him to acknowledge her before she continued.

"A week before Raoul started to get sick Madame Beaulia came to me while Raoul was out with a local governor. She came into my bedroom and asked if she could speak with me. I was curious for she had never approached me privately before. I allowed her in and asked her to take a seat. She sat across from me and starting asking me questions about my life here at the Opera Populaire. She wanted to know if I knew of the Phantom and if I had seen him. I was not sure what to say. It hurt to speak of you not knowing your fate. I could not speak of you and not feel as if I was betraying Raoul. She must have known for she assured me she would never utter a word of what I said to anyone. On her life, she swore it to me. I told her I knew of the Phantom and that I was unsure what had happened to him. She seemed so worried about you Erik. She asked how I knew the person I spoke of was the same as the Phantom she was referring to. I mentioned that I knew of your past from Raoul who had learned it from Madame Giry. She agreed that it was as I had said. She said you were a sensitive and brilliant child. She wanted to know why I was married to Raoul and not still with you. She told me she could see the love in my eyes when I thought about you or some one else mentioned the events of the past. I admitted that I cared for you deeply but you had felt it better I go with Raoul. Her eyes filled with tears and she asked if you were happy. I did not know what to say. Then the conversation became strange. I can still remember every word." Christine closed her eyes and thought about the conversation she had that evening almost a year ago.

_"Would you return to him if the time ever came?" She asked me._

_"Yes, I would return to him if he were still there. He has probably left that hellish place by now though." I had said in return._

_"He is there and he waits for you. You are destined for each other. I have heard you speak of him in your dreams. Some people in this world are tied to each other and the two of you are like souls. You will see." She commented to me. _

_"I am with Raoul and I will not betray his trust and love. No, the Phantom will never see me again though I wish for one more chance to see him. To tell him all that I feel, for one moment see him happy." I replied to her as she stood to leave._

_"When you return to him all I ask is that you take me with you. I have unfinished business at the Opera Populaire and with this boy I once knew." With those last few words she turned and left the room._

"I didn't know what to think. Then within the week, Raoul started to develop a cold. He steadily got worse and we went to see the first of many doctors. Everyone agreed, it was malaria and we did not catch it soon enough to help him. He later told me he had been sick for a few weeks and did not want to worry me. I think Madame Beaulia knew he was sick and that is when she came to me. She was preparing me and I didn't know it at the time. Then we returned home until Raoul passed and I hired her on as the head cook here." She looked over at Erik. He was deep in thought. He noticed her and looked up from the thoughts he had been concentrating on.

"I think I know who she is. I am not sure though and if I am right, she will wish she had stayed away from me." Christine watched as Erik slowly stood up and walked out of the bedchamber. She followed him to the lake where the boat was floating peacefully on the black surface. He reached over and took his cape from the bow and slung it around his shoulders. Without turning around her spoke to her.

"What time is it Christine?" He stepped onto the boat.

"Sometime after dinner I assume. The opera house should be empty for the most part. Why, where are we going?" She moved closer to the boat cautiously.

"We are going to pay a visit to the cook. I have to know if she is who I think." Erik turned around and helped her into the boat. "All I ask is that you say and do nothing. This is between the two of us. For her sake, I hope she is not who I fear she may be. Do you promise me Christine?" He looked at her, his eyes both pleading and angry. What could she do but follow him.

"I promise, Erik." She sat down as he steered the boat underneath the Opera Populaire. Who did he think she was that would have him confront her while in as much pain as he must have been?

Part twenty-nine

_How dare she return to this place after what she did? I know who this Madame Beaulia is and it appears she has been married. Well, this demon from my past will wish she had stayed there when I am done with her. _ Erik thought through what he knew about this talented cook and tried to keep his temper in control. He knew Christine was watching every move he made. She was worried for him but he was more worried for her. He knew what this person was capable of and the thought that she had been living with his angel all these years infuriated him.

He steered the boat to the staircase underneath the main stage and helped Christine out. Together they walked up the long pathway and to the hidden door back stage. This part of the opera house had been completely redone and Christine had insured that he would have his secret passages throughout the Opera Populaire.

"Christine, which way to the cook's room?" He looked over at her and she thought about where they were for a moment.

"The servant rooms are on the far left side of the stage area. This way." Christine reached out and took his hand. She led him through the empty halls and into the servants quarters.

He knew instantly which room she was in. He could see a small flicker of light under a door on the right and the smell of frankincense oil permeated the air around the room. He pulled Christine behind him and cautiously walked up to the door. He stood before it, conjuring up the civility he would need to handle this conversation without strangling the woman.

Behind him he felt Christine squeeze his shoulder and he reached out and gently but firmly rapped on the waiting door. Inside he heard the voice from his nightmares answer.

"Enter Erik and tell Christine she is welcome as well." With that, he opened the door and Christine followed him inside.

He stood beyond the doorway and quickly glanced around the room. There were rich brightly colored fabrics thrown over the chairs and hanging from various places on the walls. He could feel the smoky incense surround him as he stood there. The figurines Christine had mentioned were here as well. Small figurines of men and women in various embraces and some had been draped with the jingling chains she had spoke of earlier. There past the first set of chairs seated at a table, was the woman he remembered form the rooftop. She looked up from the cards spread out before her at her guests and motioned them to sit opposite her.

Erik moved towards her but motioned Christine to stay where she was. He glanced behind him to see concern on her face but she was not following him to the table. He stopped behind the chair she had motioned him to and waited for her attention.

"You have many questions I see. Please sit down child." She looked over at Christine as she spoke and Erik's temper flared.

"She will stay where she is and you will answer my questions woman." Erik spat each word at the older lady as she reshuffled her cards calmly. He looked over at Christine and could tell she had backed towards the door a few steps. He would have to try to keep control of his temper as he spoke to Madame Beaulia. He could tell he was frightening Christine and that made it harder to remain calm.

"Erik, sit and we will talk. You were such a calm and bright child." She started setting the cards out in an elaborate pattern on the table before her.

"You have no place speaking to me as if you care. You gave up that right years ago. I only have a few questions for you before I determine what to do with your worthless hide." He glared at her as she looked up from her cards. This time she looked less calm than she had. Good, he was finally starting to get to her. He would need her off guard and a lot less calm if he was going to get the answers he wanted.

"Ask what you wish." Was her only response.

"How could you do it? How could you let them take me after my mother died?" He practically screamed at her. His voice low and threatening like a male lion before a fight.

"Don't yell and do not act as though you cared about your mother. She was as cruel as the people at the carnival." She spoke with utmost calm and serenity. Erik was having trouble not reaching across the table and strangling this creature before him.

"No, they were worse. They paraded me before strangers…calling me a devil child. They beat me and yelled at me as if I was demon spawn. You, you let it all happen. She died and you let them take me away in a cage like an animal." Erik fought to control the flood of tears trying to spill from his dark eyes. He could sense Christine wanting to come to him but thankfully, she stayed where she was.

"You were a child. Your mother hated you for the outcast your birth made her. She had given birth to a deformed child and no man would marry her. She loathed you for it and treated you as a monster. Yet here you are blaming me for the life you had." She flipped the first card and then the second. "Your life has been truly rough. You have had to live through more torment and pain than anyone I have ever encountered. You are brilliant, I would say you are a true genius and you have the most beautiful inner soul. Christine can see it even if you can not. Why can you not let the past rest child?"

"Stop calling me that!" Erik lost control of his ferocity. He reached across the table and grabbed Madame Beaulia by the neck of her shirt and dragged her over to him, toppling the table and spilling the cards everywhere. Christine took a step forward and he put out his free hand to stop her. This was between the two of them.

"Mirella, you were my godmother! It was your responsibility to take care of me when my mother died and you sold me! YOU SOLD ME!" Erik's temper exploded and he pushed the woman backwards into the turned over table, breaking it into pieces. He was livid and he didn't notice Christine when she moved over to him this time.

"Erik, please I know this must be horrible for you but please calm down." He turned around at the sound of her voice and saw a deep sense of fear in her eyes. He felt all the hatred drain out of him and he reached for her. She threw herself into his arms and he wrapped himself around her. Feeling her there seemed to calm him. He never wanted to scare her but he did want to scare Mirella.

"I am sorry angel. I hate this woman more than I have ever hated my mother. She may have been pressured to treat me badly by custom but Mirella was my godmother. It was her responsibility to care for me and see that I was safe even if my mother could not. She was, by custom the one who was to love me as a mother since my own could not. What did she do? She sold me to a traveling freak show for some extra coin." He buried his face into her hair and breathed deeply. Her sweet scent calming him after his outburst.

"I gave you to a traveling troupe for protection from the men of our people. They felt that you were bad luck some ill omen and wanted to kill you. At least among those people you would be alive." She picked herself up and brushed wood chips off her skirts.

Erik lifted his head up and glared at Mirella.

"You were the one that was in charge of my protection. Not a group of hedonistic carnival people. If Madame Giry had not rescued me from that place I would more than likely not be alive right now. I lost my temper one night and the results were deadly. Not that he did not deserve to die but the mob afterward would surely have been my end if not for her. I was only six and she brought me to the catacombs underneath the opera house. It seemed like eons I stayed down there until I heard the sweet sound of an angel." He glanced down at Christine and she was smiling at him.

"Then all the hardships in your life led you to the one person who understands you. Who loves you no matter what others think or feel. Even for those of us born with no differences in this world that is a miracle. Would you like to see your last card Erik?" She pointed to the only unturned card from the spilt deck.

He reached down and flipped the card over. On it was the visage of a tall skeleton in a black robe. Behind the figure circled two birds, a raven and a sparrow. It was the death card.

"Do you know what that means?" She asked fully aware that he did.

"It means it is time to let go of the past so that the future can happen. Without death, there is no birth. Even as a child, I often drew this card. So, I am to forgive you and move on with my life, is that what the fates are trying to tell me Mirella?" He glared at the card in his hand and then at the older woman.

"No, you have a lovely woman by your side that is telling you that Erik. I and the fates have no need to when such a strong vision is already in front of your eyes." She walked over to Christine and kissed her cheek. "I told you he was not who you were meant to be with. Now, if you two will excuse me it is quite early and I need to start breakfast for all those hungry children in the ballet." Before she left she turned to Erik again.

"I do not ask your forgiveness for what I did. I do not deserve it. The only thing I want from you is a promise that you will leave this dark place in which you have dwelt these many years. Find a big home away from this place and live there in peace with your angel." She turned and left them alone.

Part thirty

Christine stood there still wrapped in Erik's arms. He seemed stunned and she was unsure what to say to him. She had something she wanted to tell him and ask him but was unsure as to how to do it. He was still shaken and emotional after his encounter with his former godmother. Then again, so was she. What a surprise all of this had been to her. She never knew much about his past and it was easier to understand how he became who he did after all he had been through. If anything, she felt for him more than she ever did.

"I want to ask you something Erik." She waited for him to look at her. He furrowed his brow with worry and looked at her.

"What is it?" He asked her quietly.

"I have been building something over the weeks since I have returned here to the opera house and to you. I want to show it to you. I think it is almost ready but I need to know if you are willing to leave this place. We can return to run the Opera Populaire and to see the performances. I may even audition for one. I want to show you what I have been making for you." She looked into his eyes and found the answer she had hoped for. He was curious and she knew he would follow her. "Let us leave by coach before the sun comes up. I think that will give us plenty of time."

She grabbed Erik's hand and flew out of the cook's room and into the dark halls of the opera house. They left by way of the stables and she decided to give him another gift she had recently bought for him. As they entered the stables her roan horse Aria was standing next to a tall coal black steed.

"This is Aria. She has been a loyal mount for as long as I have had her. I wanted to get you something we could enjoy together. The other one is yours." She watched Erik walk over to the monstrously large horse. He stretched out his hand and the horse instantly nuzzled him. She followed Erik as he walked around the horse looking him over. As he moved to the left side of the stallion, he saw a deep scar running down its neck. Erik ran his hand across the scar.

"I found him at an auction. He was racing and fell into a fence. His owners were furious with him and were selling him to a factory of some kind. I paid twice what the factory was going to. I knew he would have a good home with us." She walked over to Aria and gave her a good nuzzle before tossing her saddle up to Aria's back.

"We haven't got all night. Let's go." She smiled at Erik in a playful way and waited for him to finish readying his horse. Before leaving, she looked over at him as he rode up beside her. "You do realize he needs a name befitting his rider."

"We have already agreed on a name." He stroked the horse's mane. "Let's show her shall we?" And together they took off.

Christine had to ride Aria hard to catch up to them. Suddenly Erik drew the reigns and the two of them came to a stop. She moved Aria up next to his horse and laughed at him as she reached over and hit his shoulder.

"I forgot that you are leading this party." He returned her smile and waited for her to lead the way.

"What have you two decided on then?" She asked him.

"We have decided on Vivace. What do you think?" Erik looked down at the horse again and ran his fingers through its think mane.

"Vivace, meaning spirited, bright and very fast. I think that is perfect. Now, follow me." She led him out of the city and into a thick cropping of forest near the cemetery where her father and Raoul were buried. As they rode into the woods, a clearing appeared. She led him into the clearing and before them stood a large cottage, a stable house and a small stream running behind the property.

Erik turned around and stared at her for a moment.

"Is this yours?" He seemed overwhelmed at the scene before him.

"No Erik, this is ours. Do you see the stream behind the house? If you follow that stream, it leads to a cave that empties into the catacombs under the opera house. You can go between here and there whenever you please. I wanted you with me but I did not want to take who you are away from the place that you love." She slipped down from Aria and walked her over to the cottage. Erik followed her and slid off Vivace. He moved up behind her and spun her around.

"I do not love that place Christine. I love you and wherever you are is where I want to be. You are kinder and more considerate than anyone I have ever known." Christine felt him pull her into an embrace and sunk into him. "Thank you" she heard him whisper in her ear.

"For what?" She asked him.

"For letting me go anywhere you go." Christine looked into his eyes and saw a very happy future there. Erik bent his head and kissed her deeply as the sun rose over the house they would spend the rest of their lives in…together.

Fin


End file.
